"I really meant it," said Rowland, laying a kindly hand on his shoulder.
"It is very good indeed. It is, as you say, essentially good. That is
the beauty of it."

Hudson's eyes glowed and expanded; he looked at Rowland for some time in
silence. "I have a notion you really know," he said at last. "But if you
don't, it does n't much matter."

"My cousin asked me to-day," said Cecilia, "whether I supposed you knew
yourself how good it is."

Hudson stared, blushing a little. "Perhaps not!" he cried.

"Very likely," said Mallet. "I read in a book the other day that
great talent in action--in fact the book said genius--is a kind of
somnambulism. The artist performs great feats, in a dream. We must not
wake him up, lest he should lose his balance."

"Oh, when he 's back in bed again!" Hudson answered with a laugh. "Yes,
call it a dream. It was a very happy one!"

"Tell me this," said Rowland. "Did you mean anything by your young
Water-drinker? Does he represent an idea? Is he a symbol?"

Hudson raised his eyebrows and gently scratched his head. "Why, he 's
youth, you know; he 's innocence, he 's health, he 's strength, he 's
curiosity. Yes, he 's a good many things."

"And is the cup also a symbol?"