And when, by an effort, I had set aside that picture of a prostrate
body, I faced the problem of the Martians and the fate of my wife.  For
the former I had no data; I could imagine a hundred things, and so,
unhappily, I could for the latter.  And suddenly that night became
terrible.  I found myself sitting up in bed, staring at the dark.  I
found myself praying that the Heat-Ray might have suddenly and
painlessly struck her out of being.  Since the night of my return from
Leatherhead I had not prayed.  I had uttered prayers, fetish prayers,
had prayed as heathens mutter charms when I was in extremity; but now
I prayed indeed, pleading steadfastly and sanely, face to face with
the darkness of God.  Strange night!  Strangest in this, that so soon
as dawn had come, I, who had talked with God, crept out of the house
like a rat leaving its hiding place--a creature scarcely larger, an
inferior animal, a thing that for any passing whim of our masters
might be hunted and killed.  Perhaps they also prayed confidently to
God.  Surely, if we have learned nothing else, this war has taught us
pity--pity for those witless souls that suffer our dominion.