“Then man turned and said: ‘All these things are true.’
“But look again within my heart; thou shalt find charity there, and pity like a healing ointment; reverence before strength, and courage as an archangel in bright armour.
“Blow but upon the embers of truth which thou shalt find, and they shall leap as a flame; truly, thou shalt re-kindle the spark of thy breath in man.
“So shalt thou not say in anger, ‘This man which I have made is nothing worth.’”
“Does that please you better?”
“It’s surely not right, Silas.”
“Right! a fig for right and its insipidity!”
(“Insipid!” her heart rebelled; what could be insipid when light was over the whole of life? new light, young light?)
“That first bit you read ...” she began, “it reminded me of the scents at the factory; it was funny your reading just that bit.”
Silas said nothing; he was biting his nails and muttering; she resumed, drawn onward though reluctant.