"Little darling, it is you who do not understand. Your love for me is but that of a sweet child; you know nothing yet of that irresistible force that dominates the life of the world. The soul, as you like to call it, that you already possess, is sleeping. It has slept long enough, Evarne; you must not be afraid of its awakening." The girl shook her head. "How little you know me, it seems. I could never care for you more than I do already. I'm sure--oh, you can't tell--but I'm sure I bear already the very fullest extent of love that my nature is capable of ever producing." "Your believing that only proves the finite capacities of the powers of imagination! You see, you cannot even realise that there may be--and I assure you there are--possibilities of emotion lying dormant within your mind more powerful than you can even conceive of at present. Only those who can, and who will, shake themselves free from all hampering limitations ever become truly great in any direction. It is quite useless to hope that the 'divine madness' of the Muses may be given to you, unless you are already possessed of courage to seize on true freedom, for that is the only soil in which anything worth having can ever take root, thrive and grow." "I don't quite understand," she murmured nervously, reluctant to believe. "In refusing to accept the full companionship of the man who loves you, Evarne, and whom you love in return, you are simply enslaving your emotions, enchaining them, and hopelessly preventing their perfect development. The technique of your chosen Art you will doubtless gain by time and perseverance, but you are scornfully neglecting to bring to fruition a far more subtle source of power--the rich ripeness of soul that alone can appeal to humanity's soul--the flame that can set blazing the fire that lies at the heart of the race of man." Evarne again parted her lips as if to speak, but without hesitation Morris went on with his homily. "Whether you set forth to create pictures or books or music, you cannot possibly give more to the children of your brain than is to be found within your own innermost self. Only by having known the most intense, the loftiest, the deepest, in the whole range of emotional experience will you be enabled to put knowledge into your work, and without that, what worth has any work of Art? Believe me, ignorance cannot possibly ring true--truth alone can live and enthral. "Now, believe me or not, as you like, Evarne, but I assure you that because of all this, love is the one and only teacher that can really evolve a great artist. Forgive me for thus assailing you on all sides, my sweet iceberg, but your happiness and success are very dear to me. I simply cannot bear to see you thus blindly and ignorantly opposing the unfolding of the bright flower of your genius. As I started by saying, your soul is still sleeping, and it will slumber on until you can become reconciled to letting love awaken it."