"Tell me," said Jack, "what you have been reading."
"Listen, then. Oh, it is the strangest extravagance! What did men mean when they could gravely write down, and expect to be read, such things as—
"'I do love you more than words can wield the matter—
Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty;
Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare?'
'Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty.' Did they really mean that?"
"They meant more; they meant dearer than life itself!" said Jack, slowly. "Only it was stupid always to say the same thing."
"Well, then, listen to this:
"'Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love
That inward beauty and invisible;
Or, were I deaf, thy outward parts would move
Each part in me that were but sensible.
Though neither eyes nor ears, to hear nor see,
Yet should I be in love, by touching thee.'
Now, Jack, what can that mean? Was anything more absurd?"
"Read another extract, Christine."
"Here is a passage more difficult than any other: