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.