"
He broke off, then said restlessly: "I think things out, you know,
and at last I come to a conclusion, and it ends by being a platitude
that all the goody, goody books have said times without number. But
all the same that doesn't prevent it from being my discovery. It's
nothing to do with goodness and nothing to do with evil, it's
nothing to do with strength, and nothing to do with weakness; it
simply is that there are some people who want what they can see and
no more, and there are others, the baffled, fighting and disordered
others, for whom nothing that they can see with their mortal eyes is
enough, and who'll be restless all their days with their queer
little maps and their mysterious, thumbed directions to some island
or other that they'll never reach and never even get a ship for."
He stopped and there was a long silence between them, Maggie was
silent because she never knew what to say when he burst into
parables and divided mankind, under strange names, into different
camps. And yet this time she did know a little what he was after.
There was that house of Katharine Mark's the other day, with its
comfort and quiet and kind smiling clergyman--and there was this
strange place with all of them in an odd quiver of excitement
waiting for something to happen.
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