"Of—Arthur?" she exclaimed, while Spike's rigid attitude relaxed, and he drew a sudden, deep breath.
"Of Arthur!" nodded Ravenslee. "And Arthur lifted him out of the Slough of Despond and taught him that life might be a useful thing after all, if he could but find some object to help him—one who might inspire him to nobler things. And so he came here, hoping to find this object."
"An object?" she enquired softly.
"The Definite Object!" he answered, "with capital letters. One who might make life truly worth while. One who, teaching him to forget himself, should lift him to better things. An object to live for, work for, and if necessary to—die for!"
Here Spike, finding himself utterly forgotten again, sighed in deep and audible relief, and taking up knife and fork, fell to with renewed appetite, while Hermione, chin rested on folded hands, gazed into Ravenslee's grave face.
"Do you think he will ever—find his Object?"
"Oh, yes!"
"You seem very—confident."
"I am! You see, she's found."
"She?" exclaimed Hermione, her eyes beginning to waver.