“Amen,” said Belasez. “‘When we awake up after Thy likeness,’ saith David the Prophet, ‘we shall be satisfied with it.’”
“‘Satisfied!’ echoed Bruno. Art thou satisfied, my daughter?”
The answering “No!” appeared to come from the depths of Belasez’s heart.
“Shall I tell thee wherefore? There is but one thing that satisfies the soul of man. Neither in earth nor in Heaven is any man satisfied with aught else. My child, dost thou know what that is?”
Belasez looked up, her own face working a little now.
“You mean,” she said, “the Man whom ye call Christ.”
“I mean Him.”
“I know nothing about Him.” And Belasez resumed her embroidery, as if that were of infinitely greater consequence. “Dost thou know much about happiness?”
“Happiness!” exclaimed the girl. “I know what mirth is. Do you mean that? Or, I know what it is to feel as if one cared for nothing. Is that your meaning?”
“Happiness,” said Bruno, “is what thy King meant when he said, ‘I shall be satisfied with it.’ Dost thou know that?”