Page 350 - sons-and-lovers

One Sunday evening they attained to their old rare har-
mony. Edgar had stayed to Communion—he wondered
what it was like—with Mrs. Morel. So Paul came on alone
with Miriam to his home. He was more or less under her
spell again. As usual, they were discussing the sermon. He
was setting now full sail towards Agnosticism, but such a
religious Agnosticism that Miriam did not suffer so bad-
ly. They were at the Renan Vie de Jesus stage. Miriam was
the threshing-floor on which he threshed out all his beliefs.
While he trampled his ideas upon her soul, the truth came
out for him. She alone was his threshing-floor. She alone
helped him towards realization. Almost impassive, she sub-
mitted to his argument and expounding. And somehow,
because of her, he gradually realized where he was wrong.
And what he realized, she realized. She felt he could not do
without her.
They came to the silent house. He took the key out of
the scullery window, and they entered. All the time he went
on with his discussion. He lit the gas, mended the fire, and
brought her some cakes from the pantry. She sat on the sofa,
quietly, with a plate on her knee. She wore a large white hat
with some pinkish flowers. It was a cheap hat, but he liked
it. Her face beneath was still and pensive, golden-brown
and ruddy. Always her ears were hid in her short curls. She
watched him.
She liked him on Sundays. Then he wore a dark suit that
showed the lithe movement of his body. There was a clean,
clear-cut look about him. He went on with his thinking to
her. Suddenly he reached for a Bible. Miriam liked the way