“If man’s man-made God pleases him, let him worship him. That kind of deity does not please me. I no longer care whether He pleases me or not. He no longer exists as far as I am concerned.”
Brisson, much interested, asked Palla whether the void left by discredited Divinity did not bewilder her.
“There is no void,” said the girl. “It is already filled with my own kind of God, with millions of Gods––my own fellow creatures.”
“Your fellow beings?”
“Yes.”
“You think your fellow creatures can fill that void?”
“They have filled it.”
Brisson nodded reflectively: “I see,” he said politely, “you intend to devote your life to the cult of your fellow creatures.”
“No, I do not,” said the girl tranquilly, “but I intend to love them and live my life that way unhampered.” She added almost fiercely: “And I shall love them the more because of their ignorant faith in an all-seeing and tender and just Providence which does not exist! I shall love them because of their tragic deception and their helplessness and their heart-breaking unconsciousness of it all.”
Ilse Westgard smiled and patted Palla’s cheeks: “All roads lead ultimately to God,” she said, “and yours is a direct route though you do not know it.”