"
Valentine stroked the white back of Rip meditatively with his foot.
"You have never sat, have you?" he asked.
"Never."
"Nor I. I have always thought it an idiotic and very dull way of wasting
one's time. Now, what on earth can a table have to do with one's soul?"
"I don't know. What is one's soul?"
"One's essence, I suppose; the inner light that spreads its rays outward
in actions, and that is extinguished, or expelled, at the hour of death."
"Expelled, I think."
"I think so too. That which is so full of strange power cannot surely die
so soon. Even my soul, so frigid, so passionless, has, you say, held you
back from sins like a leash of steel, And I did not even try to forge the
steel. If we could exchange souls, would yours hold me back in the same
way?"
"No doubt."
"I wonder," Valentine said thoughtfully. After a moment he added, "shall
we make this absurd experiment of sitting, just for a phantasy?"
"Why not? It would be rather fun."
"It might be. We will just do it once to see whether you can get some of
my feelings, and I some of yours."
"That's it. But you could never get mine. I know you too well, Val.
You're my rock of defence. You've kept me straight because you're so
straight yourself; and, with that face, you'll never alter.
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