"Ho, ho! I should like to be a member of that congregation."
"As an Anarchist, Dr. Drabble, you are not fit to be a member of any. You don't like preaching--other people's preaching, I mean."
"That depends upon the preacher, Miss Ostergaard."
"Madame Death-in-Life, for instance."
With a snarl Drabble turned on Mallow, who had made this remark.
"What do you know of Madame Death-in-Life?" he snapped.
"Only that she is the most noted Anarchist in Europe," retorted Mallow, coolly. "Why not? I know her, you know her, the police know her; and a few stray kings will know her some day to their cost, if she isn't guillotined--as she ought to be.'
"I wonder you know such a horrible woman, Mr. Mallow," said Olive.
"Oh, my acquaintance with her is not personal, Miss Bellairs."
"Neither is mine," said Drabble, who had recovered his good humour. "I don't approve of Madame Death-in-Life's methods. It is not my plan to terrorize the world by bombs and murders. The pen, sir, the pen is mightier than the explosive; so is the tongue. Pamphlets and lectures--that is my system for bringing about the much-needed social millennium. The woman you speak of does harm to the cause; she should be suppressed."