Raphael stood silent and motionless.
‘Why do you not speak? What is the meaning of this sad, earnest look, so different from your former self?.... You have something strange to tell me!’
‘I have,’ said he, speaking very slowly. ‘What—what would Hypatia answer if, after all, Aben-Ezra said like the dying Julian, “The Galilean has conquered”?’
‘Julian never said it! It is a monkish calumny.’
‘But I say it.’
‘Impossible!’
‘I say it!’
‘As your dying speech? The true Raphael Aben-Ezra, then, lives no more!’
‘But he may be born again.’
‘And die to philosophy, that he may be born again into barbaric superstition! Oh worthy metempsychosis! Farewell, sir!’ And she rose to go.