"Why, of cou'se!"
"And that it is our duty to bear the truth to those who have never heard of it?"
"I know that is the way you feel about it; but I am not certain that I should feel so myself if you didn't want me to. That's what I got to thinking about last night." She added hopefully, "But perhaps it isn't so great a thing as I—"
"It's a very great thing," he said, and from standing in front of her, he now sat down beyond a little table before her sofa. "How can I ask you to share my life if you don't share my faith?"
"Why, I should try to believe everything that you do, of cou'se."
"Because I do?"
"Well—yes."
"You wring my heart! Are you willing to study—to look into these questions—to—to"—It all seemed very hopeless, very absurd, but she answered seriously:
"Yes, but I believe it would all come back to just where it is, now."
"What you say, Clementina, makes me so happy; but it ought to make me—miserable! And you would do all this, be all this for me, a wretched and erring creature of the dust, and yet not do it for—God?"