no mortal had ever heard from his lips before, nor
ever would hear again.

He drew a long breath and wheeled about. Magdalena was leaning forward,
staring at him intently. There was no self-consciousness in her face,
and he realised in a flash that he would merely talk into a brain. Her
woman's nature would not be awakened by the homily of an elderly man.
The task became suddenly light.

"Well, it's just this: There's no moral law governing the animal
kingdom; but men and women were allowed to develop into speaking,
reasoning, generally intelligent beings for one purpose only: to make
the world better, not worse. Their reasoning faculty may or may not be a
spark of the divine force behind the universe; but there's no doubt
about the fact, not the least, that every intelligent being knows that
he ought to be at least two thirds good, and in his better
moments--which come to the worst--he has a desire to be wholly good, or
at least better than he has ever been. In other words, the best of men
strive more or less constantly toward an ideal (and the second-best
strive sometimes) which, if realised, would make this world a very
different place. I believe myself that it is this instinct alone which
is responsible for religions,--a desire for a concrete form of goodness
to which man can cling when his own little atom is overwhelmed by the
great measure of weakness in him. Do you follow me?"

Magdalena nodded, but she did not look satisfied.

"Well, this is the point: The world might be prosaic without sin, but it
is right positive that women would suffer less. And if it could be
pounded into every woman's head that she was a fool to think twice about
any man she could not marry, and that she threatened the whole social
structure every time she brought a fatherless child into the world; that
she made possible such creatures as you saw in Dupont Street, and a long
and still more hideous sequelae, every time she deliberately violated her
own instinct for good,--we'd all begin to develop into what the Almighty
intended us to be when He started us off on our long march. Don't
misunderstand me! Even if I were not such a sinner myself, I'd be deuced
charitable where love was concerned, marriage or no marriage--O Lord! I
didn't mean to say that. Forget it until you're thirty; then remember it
if you like, for your brain is a good one. Look, promise me something,
'Lena;" he leaned forward eagerly and took her hand. "Promise me, swe