leave such work to the Haves. Why, what happens the first time you try it
on? You have to send back the goods you've tried to appropriate to where
they came from. It would be the same always. You don't know _how_ to
possess. Then in heaven's name leave possessing alone, and stick to the
job you are good at--doing without. For you are good at that. You always
have been, except just for just one short interlude, which will pass like
an illness and leave you well again. Believe me, it will. I don't know
when, or how soon; but I do know that sometime you will be happy again,
with the things, the coloured shells, so to speak, that you find still
when all the winds and storms have done their worst and all your cargoes
are broken wrecks at your feet. It will be then, in that last emptiness,
that you'll come to terms with disaster, and play the fool again to amuse
yourself and the other derelicts, because, when there's nothing else
left, there's always laughter."

Rodney had walked to the window, and now stood looking out at the dim,
luminous night, wherein, shrouded, the Easter moon dwelt in the heart of
shadows. From many churches, many clocks chimed the hour. Rodney spoke
once more, slowly, leaning out into the shadowy night.

"Through this week," he said, "they have been watching in those churches
a supreme renouncement, the ultimate agony of giving up, the last triumph
of utter loss. I'm not going to talk about that; it's not my business or
my right ... But it surely counts, that giving up whatever we may or may
not believe about it. It shines, a terrible counsel of perfection for
those who have, burning and hurting. But for those who have not, it
doesn't burn and hurt; it shines to cheer and comfort; it is the banner
of the leader of the losing legion, lifted up that the rest may follow
after. Does that help at all?... Perhaps at this moment nothing helps at
all.... Have I said enough? Need I go on?"