Show it yourself, I say; I cannot show you.

If your own eyes cannot see the Sangreal, and the angels who are bearing it before you, it is because they are dull and gross; and am I Milton's archangel, to purge them with euphrasy and rue?
If you have a noble heart, you will find for yourself the noblest Quest.

If not, who can prove to you that it is noble ?" And tapping impatiently with her foot, she went on to herself-- "'A gentle sound, an awful light! Three angels bear the holy Grail; With folded feet, in stoles of white, On sleeping wings they sail.
Ah, blessed vision! blood of God! The spirit beats her mortal bars, As down dark tides, the glory slides, And star-like mingles with the stars.' "Why, there was not a knight of the round table, was there, who did not give up all to go upon that Quest, though only one was found worthy to fulfil it?
But now-a-days, the knights sit drinking hock and champagne, or drive sulky-wagons, and never fancy that there is a Quest at all." "Why talk in these parables ?" "So the Jews asked of their prophets.

They are no parables to my ghost-husband, Sir Galahad.

Now go, if you please; I must be busy, and write letters." He rose with a look, half of disappointment, half amused, and yet his face bore a firmness which seemed to say, "You will be mine yet." As he rose, he cast his eye upon the writing-table, and upon a letter which lay there: and as he did so, his cheek grew pale, and his brows knitted.
The letter was addressed to "Thomas Thurnall, Esq., Aberalva." "Is this, then, your Sir Galahad ?" asked he, after a pause, during which he had choked down his rising jealousy, while she looked first at herself in the glass, and then at him, and then at herself again, with a determined and triumphant air.
"And what if it be ?" "So he, then, has achieved the Quest of the Sangreal ?" Stangrave spoke bitterly, and with an emphasis upon the "he;" and-- "What if he have?
Do you know him ?" answered she, while her face lighted up with eager interest, which she did not care to conceal, perhaps chose, in her woman's love of tormenting, to parade.
"I knew a man of that name once," he replied, in a carefully careless tone, which did not deceive her; "an adventurer--a doctor, if I recollect--who had been in Texas and Mexico, and I know not where besides.