Both knew that the threat was empty. As a shadow clings to a man's

heels, as a lost soul haunts its slayer, as damnation stalks the

damned, so had Stull followed Brandes; and would follow to the end.

Why? Neither knew. It seemed to be their destiny, surviving

everything--their bitter quarrels, the injustice and tyranny of

Brandes, his contempt and ridicule sometimes--enduring through

adversity, even penury, through good and bad days, through abundance

and through want, through shame and disgrace, through trickery,

treachery, and triumph--nothing had ever broken the occult bond which

linked these two. And neither understood why, but both seemed to be

vaguely conscious that neither was entirely complete without the

other.

"Ben," said Brandes affably, "I'm going to walk over to Gayfield. Want

to come?"

They went off, together.




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