Yet, when they reached the street, he left them abruptly, as if he had already said too much.
“He seems to be burning up,” said Peter.
Berthe did not answer.
“He was like Zarathustra coming down from the mountain—so shockingly full of power,” Peter added. “And yet he said so little of his own part.”
“He couldn't, Peter. He's like you—when moments are biggest.... Oh, Peter, where do you keep your passion?”
“You mean this great burning that Fallows knows?”
“Yes.”
“I haven't it. I haven't that passion. I think I am just a reporter. But you have it.... My father loved his family. I think your father must have loved the world—”
“But you love the world—”
“No, I love you.”