“Every moment holds eternity,” said the other. “Millions of years multiplied by millions of years are no nearer eternity than the millionth part of a second. Eternity isn’t quantity, it is quality.” Something shone on Colin at that, as from an immense distance over stormy water there shines some steadfast beam from a harbour light. Instantly his whole will, strong in the power that possessed it, mocked and derided. “Ah, fine durable quality,” he said. That abyss of terror in the priest’s eyes was veiled for a moment. “Yes, the quality of God,” he said. “Nothing else but it exists at all.” Colin stretched himself in his chair. “Oh damn,” he said quietly. “I’m sure I beg your pardon, Douglas, but when I try to impart a little lightness to your solemn gibberish, you flop back again. Let us quit theology or demonology, or whatever we’re talking about--I’m sure I haven’t the slightest idea what it is--and be a little more practical. Now I hear you asked to see me. What did you want to say?” “I wanted to tell you that I am leaving Stanier to-day,” said Douglas. Colin raised his eyebrows. “That’s rather sudden, isn’t it?” he said. “Yes. It’s very sudden. What happened last night was sudden and what it wrought in me.” “And so I’m to be left without my--my librarian at a moment’s notice?” said Colin. “It would make no difference if I stopped,” said Douglas. “I could never do my office again.” Colin laid his hand on the priest’s shoulder, and put into his manner all the whining charm which was his. “My dear fellow,” he said, “you mustn’t think that I’m unsympathetic. You’ve had a frightful shock, and it has absolutely upset your nerves. It has had no effect on mine, as you see, but I quite understand that you’re all abroad to-day. Now take a complete holiday for a month, and don’t go near the--the library. We’re having a divine spring, May is delicious down here. And then after a month you’ll find you’re yourself again.” Douglas shook his head. “I couldn’t possibly stop here,” he said. “Well, then, go out to Capri for a month or so. The villa is at your disposal, and, of course, you’ll be my guest, though I shan’t be there.” “That is kind of you,” said Douglas, “but I couldn’t do that either. I must go.” “But I can’t permit it,” said Colin. “You’re part of Stanier now, a very important part too. Why, it’s through you that old Colin’s original designs are complete. I built the chapel he planned before he turned traitor, but what’s the use of a chapel, without a priest? It’s no more than an empty picture frame. Last night was very upsetting, I quite grant you that, but for a fit of the nerves you mustn’t break up the very shrine of Stanier’s hidden life. Do you suppose it was chance that caused us to meet? Why, we’ve often agreed it was the most miraculous design. You can’t smash it up like that. Take a holiday by all means, but you must come back.”