Summary

Portrait of Gilbert Keith Chesterton Gilbert Keith Chesterton The Ball and the Cross — IV: A Discussion at Dawn (1909)

From the spot where Turnbull and MacIan were sitting on one of the barren steeps behind Hampstead, they could see the whole of London shaping itself vaguely and largely in the grey and growing light, until the white sun stood over it and it lay at their feet, the splendid monstrosity that it is. Its bewildering squares and parallelograms were compact and perfect as a Chinese puzzle; an enormous hieroglyphic which man must decipher or die.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Gilbert Keith Chesterton Gilbert Keith Chesterton The Ball and the Cross — IV: A Discussion at Dawn (1909)

Turnbull tied the last tin of biscuits desperately to himself with string; and then spoke, like a diver girt for plunging, short and sharp.
"Now, Mr. MacIan, you must listen to me. You must listen to me, not merely because I know the country, which you might learn by looking at a map, but because I know the people of the country, whom you could not know by living here thirty years. That infernal city down there is awake; and it is awake against us. All those endless rows of windows and windows are all eyes staring at us.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Gilbert Keith Chesterton Gilbert Keith Chesterton The Ball and the Cross — IV: A Discussion at Dawn (1909)

Evan remained in an unmoved and grave attitude. "There is a part of me which is divine," he answered, "a part that can be trusted, but there are also affections which are entirely animal and idle."
"And you are quite certain, I suppose," continued Turnbull, "that if even you esteem me the esteem would be wholly animal and idle?" For the first time MacIan started as if he had not expected the thing that was said to him. At last he said:
"Whatever in earth or heaven it is that has joined us two together, it seems to be something which makes it impossible to lie.
Source: Wikisource

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