"That would put life at a lower figure than I want it to be, for you or for myself. No, Christ first; and his service, and his honour, and his pleasure and his will, first. After that, then nothing dearer, and nothing to which we owe more, than each of us to the other."
As she was silent, he asked gently, "What do you say to it, Rotha?"
"Of course you are right. Only—I am afraid I have not got so far as you have."
"You only began the other day. But we are settling principles. I want this one settled clearly and fully, so that we may regulate every footstep by it."
"Every footstep?" Rotha repeated, looking up for a glance.
"You do not understand that?"
"No."
"It is the rule of all my footsteps. I want it to be the rule of all yours. Let me ask you a question. In view of all that Christ has done for us, what do we owe him?"
"Why—of course—all," said Rotha looking up.
"What does 'all' mean? There is nothing like defining terms."