"'Good heavens!' roared the blind man (asserting himself for the first time in history, Ursula), 'it was clay, man, good honest clay! Look at it! Turn round and look at it! There's miles of the holy precious stuff. Go down on your miserable knees, as I did, and thank God for it. _I_ didn't make it. _I_ can't give it to you. God thrusts it at you. Were you born blind?'" Or Paul would ascend the stairs more quietly, and knock. "May I come in?" he would say, opening the door gently. "Yes, you old silly. What is it now?" Paul would throw himself into the window-seat and look gravely at her. "I say, do you know, in the long run, they all said that he was still blind!" "What?" "They all said he was still blind. The people, you know, and the Pharisees. The people said: 'But, look here, how could clay open a man's eyes? The thing's ridiculous. There must be more in it than that. Come now, He said a magic word, didn't He, that Jesus? He had some secret medicine, eh? You're hiding something, you know you are! What was it?' "'It was clay out of the street,' said the Beggar-Man, 'just clay.' "'Rubbish,' said the people, 'you're as blind as a bat to believe that twaddle.'" Ursula would lean back thoughtfully, studying him. "And the Pharisees?" she asked softly. "Ah, the Pharisees!" Paul jumped up and began to walk restlessly about. "You see, Ursula, when he was blind they were rather satisfied with him. He saw so plainly what good, wise, holy men they were. He saw plainly that they were meant to be masters in Israel, and it is right and proper for beggars to see that. But when they were up against his sight, and showed plainly that ultimately they knew no more than he did, and, indeed, not so much, about God or Jesus or miracles or clay or anything, he began to think that they, too, must have been born blind." "I see," said the girl, "I see, Paul. And what then?" "Oh, they turned the Beggar-Man out of the temple," said Paul. "Ah, and what then?" "He tells me, he went, Ursula, he just went. And--and he's never gone back." Silence between them. He was staring out of the window now, and she leaning back in her chair, playing with her brushes. "Ursula." "Yes?" "Do you know, the disciples thought him blind, too." "Why?" "Well, they were so sure about Jesus. They made a whole religion up about him. And the Beggar-Man never could do that. 'He took the clay that he and I were standing on,' he would say, 'and I saw. That's all I have to tell. One thing I know: whereas I was blind, now I see.'" "'Love him, then,' said the disciples. "'Good heavens, do you think I don't?' cried the Beggar-Man. "'Worship him, then,' said the disciples. "'Of course,' said the Beggar-Man, 'as I worship my mother and my wife and the little blue spring lilies on the hills of Galilee.' "'No,' they said. 'He's the Second Person of the Trinity. He's the Logos. He's Eternal, Invisible, the Only Wise----'