“And is it true?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Is it true that rural silence is a practical need?”
“Don’t ask me!”
“Have you ever tried it?”
“What?”
“Rural silence.”
“A field with no noise in it, I suppose you mean. I don’t understand.”
Ansell smiled, but a slight fire in the man’s eye checked him. After all, this was a person who could knock one down. Moreover, there was no reason why he should be teased. He had it in him to retort “No. Why?” He was not stupid in essentials. He was irritable—in Ansell’s eyes a frequent sign of grace. Sitting down on the upturned seat, he remarked, “I like the book in many ways. I don’t think ‘What We Want’ would have been a vulgar title. But I don’t intend to spoil myself on the chance of mending the world, which is what the creed amounts to. Nor am I keen on rural silences.”
“Curse!” he said thoughtfully, sucking at an empty pipe.