Paul read. It was the last stage before the actual and now famous play. He had written without introduction as if he were about a short story, and, in main, it was this that was dramatised.
(4)
Paul finished. Ursula, who had hardly moved, put out a hand and laid it gently on his arm.
Paul drew a breath of relieved content, being satisfied now that he knew her so well.
"Now," he said, "I shall begin that play."
"God is silent," said Ursula quizzically.
"But I see," cried Paul eagerly.
"What do you see?"
"I see the wonder and beauty of things as they are. I see that they satisfy. I see that that's enough, that—that they're a kind of avenue down which a man can go forward. And at the end, perhaps, he will find, not all the secret, but a still living lovely lake of water into which he will plunge, content."
"Water?"