Those men don't know themselves; don't know that
it is all useless for them to try to hide the nobility which has been put
into them, to thrust it down, and, metaphorically, to dance on it. They
can't get rid of it, do what they will. I like to think of goodness as
the shadow of evil through life, the shadow that, at death, or perhaps
long after death, becomes the substance."
"You think we cannot kill the good that is in us?"
"Not quite. But I think we can go near to killing it, so near that it
will take longer to recover and to be itself again, longer far than the
most relapsing typhoid patient."
"And have you other reasons for your belief?"
"Perhaps. But some of them are difficult to define, and would carry no
conviction to any one but myself. There is one in this very room with
us."
Julian glanced up, surprised.
"What is that, doctor?" he said.
"You ought to know better than I," Levillier answered.
He was looking at Valentine, who, apparently quite unconscious of their
presence, was still playing rather softly. Julian followed his eyes.
The light in the room was dim, a carefully manufactured twilight. It is
strange how many things, and how slight, stir, control, influence in one
direction or another, the emotions.
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