Again silence. At last she said,
“Will there be more wars?”
“Yes. All this incredible wealth that the scientific men have showered on earth will be fought for again and again.”
“But the men who produce it never fight for it.”
“No, because they live in a world of their own, the only world where communism works. They tell all they know, they share every thought, they give away their secrets, because they dare not do otherwise. They love their mother earth, and so they are bound to be martyred.”
Still more silence, while Jean’s teacup remained untouched, and her sweet eyes were full of pain.
“Daughter, we have long lived on very little, thanks to your creative economy, and I can’t see that you are less fair for all your suffering. Should you grieve if now I gave away a part of my land to needy ones?”
“No, father.”
“Then I am minded to do it—in fact to deed them all my holding, retaining only what the foolish Lear retained.”
“Can you trust them?”