“No, but they’re more modern. You like things which aren’t yourself. But they don’t. They hate to admire anything that they can’t take to themselves. They hate anything that isn’t themselves. And that’s why they like pictures. It’s all themselves to them, all the time.”
He still puzzled.
“You know I don’t follow you,” he said, a little mocking, as if she were making a fool of herself.
“Because you don’t know them. You don’t know the common people. You don’t know how conceited they are.”
He watched her a long time.
“And you think we ought to cut out the variety, and give nothing but pictures, like the Empire?” he said.
“I believe it takes best,” she said.
“And costs less,” he answered. “But then! It’s so dull. Oh my word, it’s so dull. I don’t think I could bear it.”
“And our pictures aren’t good enough,” she said. “We should have to get a new machine, and pay for the expensive films. Our pictures do shake, and our films are rather ragged.”
“But then, surely they’re good enough!” he said.