He had stretched his arms before him. They were poised in front of him, lank and ungainly in their black broadcloth, and his voice had soared out of his control. I started away from him. I was ashamed to stay and see him so, but I could not go. I could not, though no living man should see another as I saw Eliphalet then. There in his counting-room Eliphalet Greer was calling on his God. A torrent of wild words was surging to his lips.
“O Maker of all living things!” he cried, “Maker of the Heavens and the Earth, when wilt Thou set me free, O God! Wilt Thou never free Thy servant from the lusts of the flesh? Wilt Thou never send the Devil from me? Save me from the clutches of the Old Man, and let me sin no more! Now that my sins are as scarlet, I pray Thee make them white as snow.”
Was he
