[251]WILLIAM. And then, I confess, the fact of the 1863 volume seemed for the moment conclusive.
ISOBEL. But now it doesn’t?
WILLIAM. I explain it now, as one always explained it when he was alive. Every great poet has these lapses.
ISOBEL. Oh! (She is silent, looking at WILLIAM wonderingly, almost admiringly.)
WILLIAM (after waiting for her comment). Well?
ISOBEL. What can I say, William, except again how nice it will be? No scandal, no poverty, no fuss, and his life in two volumes just as before. We are a little too late for the Abbey, but, apart from that, everything is as nice as it can be.
WILLIAM (solemnly). You have not mentioned the best thing of all, Isobel.
ISOBEL. What?
WILLIAM (looking up reverently at the picture). That our faith in him has not been misplaced.
(She wonders at him, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry.)