“The spark is Christianity itself—but I am afraid they will not be able to distinguish it from Socialism. The central paradox in Christianity consists in the harmonizing of the individual and socialistic spirit, and this removes it as far from the present political doctrine of socialism as it is possible to be. Christianity, looked at from a certain viewpoint,—and I think the proper viewpoint,—is the most individualistic of religions, since its basic principle is the development of the individual into an autonomous being.”
They stood facing each other on an open stretch of lawn. The place was deserted. Through the trees, in the near distance, the sightless front of the Ferguson mansion blazed under the September sun.
“Individualistic!” she repeated, as though dazed by the word applied to the religion she had discarded. “I can't understand. Do you think I ever can understand?” she asked him, simply.
“It seems to me you understand more than you are willing to give yourself credit for,” he answered seriously. “You don't take into account your attitude.”
“I see what you mean—a willingness to take the right road, if I can find it. I am not at all sure that I want to take it. But you must tell me more—more of what you have discovered. Will you?”
He just hesitated. She herself appeared to acknowledge no bar to their further intimacy—why should he?
“I will tell you all I know,” he said.
Suddenly, as if by a transference of thought, she voiced what he had in mind.
“You are going to tell them the truth about themselves!” she exclaimed. “—That they are not Christians!”
His silence was an admission.