Wilfred smiled into the fire.
“Oh well, if it amuses you . . . !” said Elaine, shrugging.
“You know that big statue of Barnard’s,” she presently went on; “I Feel Two Natures Struggling Within Me”?
“All rot!” he said rousing himself. “I imagine that is just a little joke of Barnard’s on the dear public. What he is really portraying is the Triumph of Youth Over Age! It was a favorite subject during the renaissance. . . . Two natures! Life is not so simple! That is merely a theological distinction. Body and soul are not at war with each other. We can’t get anywhere without Body. In the complete life you would find Body and Soul pulling in double harness.”
“But is there ever a complete life?” asked Elaine.
“Well . . . no! I suppose not!” murmured Wilfred, falling through space. “It is only an ideal. . . .”
Their eyes were suddenly drawn together. They exchanged a startled, questioning glance like prisoners beholding each other from separate towers. Forever solitary and wistful. They knew each other then. They hastily looked away, laughing in an embarrassed way; each terrified lest the other might speak of what he had surprised. But neither spoke, and they secretly softened towards each other.
After awhile Elaine got up, and switched on the lamps. She glanced at the clock. “There’s a man coming directly,” she said.
Wilfred stood up.
“Don’t be silly!” said Elaine. “Suppose I was giving you a hint to go, why be in such haste to take it? It’s not very flattering.”