“And the second question. You think, then, it is our duty to seek happiness and joy and forget the sorrow of the world?”
“I think it is so for me,” said he, “though I do think that there are many people, most, I suppose, that realise themselves through sorrow and suffering. I can only say that I believe I am not one of those. The way does not lie for me there.”
Evelyn got up, and stood leaning on the balustrade of the verandah. This was beginning to touch him more closely now; his own threads were beginning to interweave in the scheme Merivale drew.
“And for me,” he said. “What is your diagnosis of me? Am I one of those who will find themselves through sorrow or through joy?”
Merivale turned to him with almost the same eagerness in his face as Evelyn himself showed.
“Ah, how can I tell you that?” he said, “beyond telling you at least that in my opinion, which after all is only my opinion, it is in joy that you, almost above everyone I know, will ripen and bear fruit. Sorrow, asceticism is the road by which some approach happiness, but I do not see you on that road. Renunciation for you——”
Evelyn got up and came a step closer.
“Yes? Yes?” he cried.
Merivale answered him by another question.
“Something has happened to you,” he said. “What is it?”