“Damn you,” cried No, “I will have peace.”
“It takes two,” said Yes gently, “to make a peace,” and turned to limp away.
“But Yes,” cried No after him, now thoroughly dismayed, “how is all this to end?”
“Dear No,” said Yes, “it does not end.”
XLI
VICISTI GALILÆE
DOWN a path in the wood she came singing. The path on which she walked was itself like a song under leaves like music. The path was the echo of the song, or the song of the path. It does not matter. This was before music and the world made of music had fallen apart.
His shadow fell on the path. The song stopped; the path grew still.
“It is quiet, quiet,” she said.