Absurdly enough, knowledge came to him just then, like a revelation. There was no apparent reason why it should not have come before, and he did not move for a little pondering his dulness and the surpassing wonder of things. For this awakening was not a bit as he had imagined such things would be. He was not excited or passionate, not now at any rate. He wanted indeed to touch her, but tenderly, he could scarcely tell himself how tenderly. He put his arm gently about her waist. "Yes, Ursula, you, you," he whispered. She turned with a swift movement and faced him. "I!" she cried, her eyes alight, "I!" Then, for Paul Kestern and Ursula Manning, for both of them, the kingdoms of this world and the glory of them passed away, and there was vision of a new heaven and a new earth. After a little, Paul disengaged himself from her arms. There was an odd expression of wonder written on his face, very plain to see. Ursula tried to read it, but was puzzled. "What is it, Paul darling?" she whispered. "Why," he said slowly, "do you know what I was thinking? All my years of worry and doubt, all that talk about religion----" He broke off. "Yes?" He hesitated. Then he laughed merrily like a child and flung his arms about her again, eagerly, boisterously. "Of course," he managed to say at last, "it was all awfully important. _Really, truly_, Ursula." Printed in Great Britain by Billing and Sons, Limited, Guildford and Esher. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Peradventure, by Robert Keable