He began to laugh at his jest. Still one could see how ardent was his faith in mental effort, how entirely he gave himself to mental labour, which, in his opinion, could alone bring truth, establish justice and create happiness.
Then came a short spell of silence. Paris sank more and more deeply into the night, growing black and mysterious, till all at once sparks of light began to appear.
“The lamps are being lighted,” resumed Francois; “work is being resumed on all sides.”
Then Guillaume, who likewise had been dreaming, immersed in his fixed idea, exclaimed: “Work, yes, no doubt! But for work to give a full harvest it must be fertilised by will. There is something which is superior to work.”
Thomas and Antoine had drawn near. And Francois, as much for them as for himself, inquired: “
