They are always either dreaming or talking
about their dreams. They care nothing for the realities of life.
No--if you want advice, you must go to your lawyer or clergyman,
or some man of common sense, neither groom nor poet."
"Then, Florimel, it comes to this--that this groom of yours
is one of the truest of men, and one who possessed your father's
confidence, but you are so much his superior that you are capable
of judging him, and justified in despising his judgment."
"Only in practical matters, Clementina."
"And duty towards God is with you such a practical matter that you
cannot listen to anything he has got to say about it."
Florimel shrugged her shoulders.
"For my part, I would give all I have to know there was a God worth
believing in."
"Clementina!"
"What?"
"Of course there is a God. It is very horrible to deny it."
"Which is worse--to deny it, or to deny him? Now, I confess to
doubting it--that is, the fact of a God; but you seem to me to
deny God himself, for you admit there is a God--think it very
wicked to deny that, and yet you don't take interest enough in him
to wish to learn anything about him. You won't think, Florimel. I
don't fancy you ever really think."
Florimel again laughed.
"I am glad," she said, "that you don't judge me incapable of that
high art.
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