"According to my opinion, in the blissful consciousness of acting according to the measure of our strength, and in harmony with the well-being of our fellow-men."
"I think that if I, when a boy, had had an instructor after your stamp, it would have been happy for me," Sonnenkamp exclaimed, in a tone entirely different from before.
Eric replied, "Nothing that you could say to me would give me more confidence and hopefulness than this utterance."
A quick movement of the hand, as if he were throwing away some object, indicated that something went wrong with Sonnenkamp. This continued conversation wearied him, for he was not used to it, and this sort of immediate balancing of the ledger wounded his pride. Eric never remained in his debt, and he himself had always the feeling that there was something for him to pay.
For some time nothing was heard but the splashing of the fountain, and the gentle flowing of the Rhine, and at intervals the note of the nightingale singing unweariedly in the thicket.
"Did you ever have a passion for play?" Sonnenkamp asked unexpectedly.
"No."
"Were you ever passionately in love? You look at me in astonishment, but I asked only because I should like to know what has made you so mature."
"Perhaps a careful and thorough training has given me that serious thoughtfulness which you are so kind as to call maturity."
"Well, you are more than an educator."