"But they are the big things to you, aren't they? They make life
for you?"
"Oh, yes; that, of course." It was as if he were surprised at the
need of such a question. "I suppose I find the same excitement and
adventure in research that other men find in politics, or war, or
making money."
"Adventure?" she said, puzzled. "I shouldn't have supposed
research an adventurous career, exactly."
"No; not from the outside." His hidden gaze shifted to sweep the
far distances. His voice dropped and softened, and, when he spoke
again, she felt vaguely and strangely that he was hardly thinking
of her or her question, except as a part of the great wonder-world
surrounding and enfolding their companioned remoteness.
"This is my credo," he said, and quoted, half under his breath:--
"'We have come in search of truth,
Trying with uncertain key
Door by door of mystery.
We are reaching, through His laws,
To the garment hem of Cause.
As, with fingers of the blind,
We are groping here to find
What the hieroglyphics mean
Of the Unseen in the seen;
What the Thought which underlies
Nature's masking and disguise;
What it is that hides beneath
Blight and bloom and birth and death.
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