"You talk wildly,"--I said--"And you sing wildly. Of things that mean
nothing, and _are_ nothing."
He smiled, lifting his eyes to the moon, now shining her fullest and
brightest.
"True!" he replied--"Things which have meaning and are valuable, have
all to do with money or appetite, Geoffrey! There is no wider outlook
evidently! But we were speaking of love, and I hold that love should be
eternal as hate. Here you have the substance of my religious creed if I
have any,--that there are two spiritual forces ruling the universe--love
and hate,--and that their incessant quarrel creates the general
confusion of life. Both contend one against the other,--and only at
Judgment-Day will it be proved which is the strongest. I am on the side
of Hate myself,--for at present Hate has scored all the victories worth
winning, while Love has been so often martyred that there is only the
poor ghost of it left on earth."
At that moment my wife's figure appeared at the drawing-room window, and
Lucio threw away his half-smoked cigar.
"Your guardian-angel beckons!" he said, looking at me an odd expression
of something like pity mingled with disdain,--"Let us go in."