Kangaroo was silent, and offended.
“I don’t think that is a final reason,” he replied.
“For me it is. No, I want one of the olives that the man took away. You give one such good food, one forgets deep questions in your lovely salad. Why don’t you do as Jaz says, and back up the Reds for the time being. Play your pawns and your bishops.”
“You know that a bite from a hyæna means blood-poisoning,” said Kangaroo.
“Don’t be solemn. You mean Willie Struthers? Yes, I wouldn’t want to be bitten. But if you are so sure of love as an all-ruling influence, and so sure of the fidelity of the Diggers, through love, I should agree with Jaz. Push Struthers where he wants to go. Let him proclaim the rule of the People: let him nationalise all industries and resources, and confiscate property above a certain amount: and bring the world about his ears. Then you step in like a saviour. It’s much easier to point to a wrecked house, if you want to build something new, than to persuade people to pull the house down and build it up in a better style.”
Kangaroo was deeply offended, mortified. Yet he listened.
“You are hopelessly facile, Lovat,” he said gently. “In the first place, the greatest danger to the world to-day is anarchy, not bolshevism. It is anarchy and unrule that are coming on us—and that is what I, as an order-loving Jew and one of the half-chosen people, do not want. I want one central principle in the world: the principle of love, the maximum of individual liberty, the minimum of human distress. Lovat, you know I am sincere, don’t you?”
There was a certain dignity and pathos in the question.
“I do,” replied Somers sincerely. “But I am tired of one central principle in the world.”
“Anything else means chaos.”