“You’re a good fellow,” said Taswell, a little condescendingly, “but of course that’s all nonsense. The best men are bound to come to the top!”
“Oh, well, so long as I’m a good fellow . . . !” said Wilfred, laughing.
“You talk all over the place,” objected Taswell. “You don’t follow through. Talking just for the sake of talking; that’s nothing. You must hold fast to certain ideas.”
“Those fixed ideas are the rocks in the rapids on which we shatter ourselves,” said Wilfred.
“What have we got to hang on to, then?” demanded Taswell.
“Nothing! We must let life carry us.”
“Oh, look here . . . ! Nobody knows of course what the end is going to be; but I’ve got to know what I’m doing on the way!”
“I just enjoy the motion,” said Wilfred, smiling.
“You don’t really mean anything you say!” said Taswell, impatiently.
“That’s true, in a sense,” said Wilfred. “But there’s a sort of general meaning to be collected out of the whole.”