"The flower turns towards the sun," said Doctor Louis, after a pause, during which I knew that he was bringing himself back to the point he was aiming at, "and closes its leaves in the darkness. My view has been that man, though the highest in the scale, is not his own master; he is subject to the influences which affect lower grades of life. At the same time he has within him that with which no other form of life is gifted--discernment, and, as you have said, the power to advance or recede. It sometimes happens that an impulse, as noble as it is merciful, arrests his foot, and he says, 'No, I may bruise that flower,' and turns aside. You follow me?"
"Yes--but you are still generalising. Question me more plainly upon what you desire to know."
"You are a stranger among us?"
"I was; I do not look upon myself as a stranger now. Here have I found peace and fitness. Do not forget that, out of your goodness and generosity, you have treated me with affection."
"I do not forget it, and I pray that it may not lead to unhappiness."
"It is also my prayer--though you must remember that one man often enjoys at another man's expense."
"You have already told me something of yourself. Again I ask, what are you?"
"An English gentleman."
"Your father?"
"He was the same."