'I am merely taking what the Bible says about it, mother.' 'Which every man interprets for himself,' added Mr. Dallas drily. 'Where words are so plain, there can hardly be any question of interpretation. For instance'-- 'Let that be,' said Mr. Dallas; 'and tell us, if you can, what is your idea of the "choice" you say you have to make. A choice between what?' 'The one thing runs into the other,' said Pitt; 'but it does not signify at which end we begin. The question is, I suppose, in short, which world I will live for.' 'Live for both! That is the sensible way.' 'But, if you will pardon me, sir, impracticable.' 'How impracticable?' 'It has been declared so by the highest authority, and it has been found so in practice. I see it to be impracticable.' '_I_ do not. Where's the impracticability?' Mr. Dallas had wheeled round now and was regarding his son attentively, with a face of superior, cold, rather scornful calm. Mr. Dallas's face was rarely anything else but calm, whatever might be going on beneath the calm. Pitt's face was not exactly so quiet; thought was working in it, and lights and shades sometimes passed over it, which his father carefully studied. 'Where's the impossibility?' he repeated, as Pitt's answer tarried. 'The impossibility of walking two ways at once.' 'Will you explain yourself? I do not see the application.' He spoke with clear coldness, perhaps expecting that his son would be checked or embarrassed by coming against that barrier to enthusiasm, a cold, hard intellect. Pitt, however, was quite as devoid of enthusiasm at the moment as his father, and far more sure of his ground, while his intellect was full as much astir. His steadiness was not shaken, rather gained force, as he went on to speak, though he did not now lift his eyes, but sat looking down at the white damask which covered the breakfast table, having pushed his plate and cup away from him.