'No, you won't. I want you to tell Bertie and me about America. You haven't been there, have you?'
'No. The capital is New York,' said Ginger; 'and you are sick before you get there. When you get there, you are sick again. Then you come back. That is why I haven't been. Next question, please.'
'Why is Bertie going, then?' she asked.
'Because—because he is Bertie instead of me.'
'And why am I going, then?'
'Because you are not Judy. And you are both going there because you are both progressive English people.'
Ginger got up, and stood in front of them.
'All people who on earth do dwell,' said he, 'go to America if they want to dwell—really dwell—on earth. If you want to have all material things at your command, you will, if you are going to get them at all, get them quicker there than anywhere else. But if you attain your ambition, you will come back like cast iron. Everything that was a pleasure to you will be a business; you will play bridge with a cast-iron face, and ask for your winnings; you will study the nature of your soil before you plant a daisy in it; you will always get your money's worth out of everybody. You will be cast iron.'
'No, I won't,' said Sybil. 'You are quite wrong. I will come back in nature as I went.'
'You can't. If you were strong enough for that, you wouldn't go; your going is a sign of weakness.'