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He was smiling
in his tenderly humorous way. "Well, sweetheart," he said, "would you
rather be logical, or would you rather be happy?"
"Oh, I'm not insisting upon the logic. I'm just wondering about it."
"Isn't love greater than either a test tube or a paint brush?" Karl asked
softly.
She nodded, smiling at him lovingly.
He sat there looking a long way ahead. She knew he was thinking something
out. "Ernestine," he began, "do you ever think much about the _oneness_
of the world?"
"Why, yes--I do, but I didn't suppose you did."
"But, liebchen--who would be more apt to think about it than I? Doesn't
my work teach oneness more than it teaches anything else? All the
quarrelling comes through a failure to recognise the oneness. I often
think of the different ways Goethe and Darwin got at evolution. Goethe
had the poetic conception of it all right; Darwin worked it out step by
step. Who's ahead? And which has any business scoffing at the other?"
He went back to his notes, and her thoughts returned to the battles she
had heard fought in the name of science.


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