"I was. I wouldn't have missed a bit of it. It was worth a sleepless night." "I doubt whether I should consider anything worth the sacrifice of a night's sleep," he said, and laughed. "It would take a lot to spoil my rest. The air here acts like a narcotic with me." "That's odd," she said. "It makes me alert. There's something in the atmosphere of this place--I don't know what it is--which influences me strangely. I go about in a state of expectant curiosity. I'm looking for things to happen. That's absurd, I know; but the feeling's there." He scrutinised her intently. In this lonely spot what could happen out of the ordinary run of events? Nothing surely in the nature of change-- unless the change were in one's self. "The state of your mind is provocative," he said. "By invoking things to happen you may precipitate a crisis. It is always a dangerous practice to tempt the gods." "I don't agree with that. I'm something of a fatalist," she said. "I believe, not that our lives are prearranged, but that the event which happens is inevitable, that we must accept things as they come to us. The manner of our acceptance alone is left to our choice." "I should hesitate to adopt that theory," he said. "I like to feel that I have some say in the arrangement of my life. According to your idea a man might hold himself immune for any evil he contrived. It relieves the individual of all responsibility." "No." She flushed slightly. "The qualities of good and evil are ours to develop at will. The individual is always responsible for his own nature." "I don't like your theory any better as you enlarge it," he replied. "It's rough on any one to have to keep good with all the odds against him. And if he fail, what then?" "I don't believe in complete human failure," she answered quietly. "Do you?" "I don't know." He was thinking of Hallam, considering him a fair example of failure; she also was thinking of Hallam, but with greater kindness. Derelict though the man appeared, the belief held with her that one day he would pull himself together and make good. She got up suddenly. "We are growing too serious," she said; "and it's nearly lunch time. What a blessed break in the day one's meals make."