“Perhaps you will find the Bible turn out like that,” he said hopefully.

“I have found it.  Within the last few months I have read it right through again—­Old and New.  It is full of sublime truths, noble apophthegms, endless touches of nature, and great poetry.  Our tiny race may well be proud of having given humanity its greatest as well as its most widely circulated books.  Why can’t Judaism take a natural view of things and an honest pride in its genuine history, instead of building its synagogues on shifting sand?”

“In Germany, later in America, the reconstruction of Judaism has been attempted in every possible way; inspiration has been sought not only in literature, but in archaeology, and even in anthropology; it is these which have proved the shifting sand.  You see your scepticism is not even original.”  He smiled a little, serene in the largeness of his faith.  His complacency grated upon her.  She jumped up.  “We always seem to get into religion, you and I,” she said.  “I wonder why.  It is certain we shall never agree.  Mosaism is magnificent, no doubt, but I cannot help feeling Mr. Graham is right when he points out its limitations.  Where would the art of the world be if the second Commandment had been obeyed?  Is there any such thing as an absolute system of morality?  How is it the Chinese have got on all these years without religion?  Why should the Jews claim the patent in those moral ideas which you find just as well in all the great writers of antiquity?  Why—?” she stopped suddenly, seeing his smile had broadened.

“Which of all these objections am I to answer?” he asked merrily.  “Some I’m sure you don’t mean.”

“I mean all those you can’t answer.  So please don’t try.  After all, you’re not a professional explainer of the universe, that I should heckle you thus.”

“Oh, but I set up to be,” he protested.

“No, you don’t.  You haven’t called me a blasphemer once.  I’d better go before you become really professional.  I shall be late for dinner.”

“What nonsense!  It is only four o’clock,” he pleaded, consulting an old-fashioned silver watch.

“As late as that!” said Esther in horrified tones.  “Good-bye!  Take care to go through my ‘copy’ in case any heresies have filtered into it.”

“Your copy?  Did you give it me?” he inquired.

“Of course I did.  You took it from me.  Where did you put it?  Oh, I hope you haven’t mixed it up with those papers.  It’ll be a terrible task to find it,” cried Esther excitedly.

“I wonder if I could have put it in the pigeon-hole for ‘copy,’” he said.  “Yes! what luck!”

Esther laughed heartily.  “You seem tremendously surprised to find anything in its right place.”

The moment of solemn parting had come, yet she found herself laughing on.  Perhaps she was glad to find the farewell easier than she had foreseen, it had certainly been made easier by the theological passage of arms, which brought out all her latent antagonism to the prejudiced young pietist.  Her hostility gave rather a scornful ring to the laugh, which ended with a suspicion of hysteria.