"I beg your pardon. It is the journalist's interviewing habit. And I
thought I recalled, also----"
Lavis seemed to be waiting for Meade to finish, but Meade, who suddenly
realized to what he was leading, did not finish; and Lavis turned his
head so as to look squarely at Cadogan. Through the half-closed, wistful
eyes Cadogan caught a gleam that he again felt was an answer to Meade's
unfinished question, and yet was again meant, not for Meade, but for
himself.
"But to return," persisted Meade; "how is the world to benefit by your
theory that God does not allow a great spirit to die?"
"Well, call it theory. After the mortal death of a man whose dying was a
tremendous experience, there will be born again a great soul. And if the
being in whom that soul is enshrined is but true to the best in himself,
he will attain to the utterance of a great message, compel the world to
listen to his message; and the world, having listened, will be for all
time the better."
"I suppose"--Meade was by now not wholly free of self-consciousness--"a
man should have had a training as a writer to best fit him for such an
experience?"
"Writer, sculptor, painter, musician, lawgiver--anything, so that he
possesses the germ, the potential power to make others see, hear, or
feel things as he does."
"But who aboard this ship possesses such a gift?"