"What is that, my love?"
"The path-finding instinct of the soul itself."
"Do you believe there is such an instinct?"
"As much as I believe the carrier pigeon has it. It is the inner light of which you told me. You see, I remember my lesson like an obedient child."
"Why, then, are we so often misled?" he asked, tempting her.
"Because we do not wholly trust it!" she said.
"But how can we distinguish the true light from the false, the instinct from imagination or desire? If the soul has a hundred compasses pointing in different ways, what compass shall lead the bewildered mariner to know the true compass?"
"He who will know, can know."
"Are you speaking from your heart, Pepeeta?"
"From its depths."