"All of a sudden, he jerked his head up and looked me in the eyes.
“Why,” he asked, “don’t you let me come to see you?”
I explained that I didn’t believe in God.
“Are you really so sure of that?”
I said I saw no point in troubling my head about the matter; whether I believed or didn’t was, to my mind, a question of so little importance.
He then leaned back against the wall, laying his hands flat on his thighs. Almost without seeming to address me, he remarked that he’d often noticed one fancies one
is quite sure about something, when in point of fact one isn’t. When I said nothing, he looked at me again, and asked:
“Don’t you agree?”
I said that seemed quite possible. But, though I mightn’t