Apparently he was glad to dine with Ascher and me every day in the week, including Friday.
“There’s no sense,” he said, “in refusing to talk to a man just because you don’t like his opinions.”
I agreed. I even offered proof of my agreement. I was at that moment talking to Gorman and I certainly did not like his opinions.
When Ascher joined us at dinner on the third evening of our voyage, he turned out to be a very quiet, gentle little man with no outward sign of great wealth about him. He drank nothing but Perrier Water which was a surprise and, I fancy, something of a disappointment to Gorman. He expected Ascher to order champagne and was quite ready to take his turn in paying for the wine. Ascher smoked half a cigarette after dinner and another half cigarette before he went to bed. Gorman confided to me that millionaires and half-crown cigars had always been associated in his mind before he met Ascher. To me the most surprising thing about the man was the low opinion he had of himself and his own abilities. He was deferential to Gorman and even seemed to think what I said worth listening to. He knew all about Gorman’s two novels and his play. He had read many of Gorman’s newspaper articles. He used to try and make Gorman talk about literature and art. Gorman, being a man of great intelligence, hates talking about literature, and suspects that any one who accuses him of art is poking fun at him. Ascher took both literature and art quite seriously. He evidently thought that men who write books belong to a superior class. As a matter of fact Ascher has far more brains than any author I have ever met; but he does not know this.
Ascher lay down without protest under all the outrageous things which Gorman said about financiers. His extreme meekness seemed to stimulate Gorman.
“No qualities,” said Gorman, “are required for success as a financier except a low kind of cunning and a totally unscrupulous selfishness.”
Ascher seemed to agree with him. I wanted to point out that considering the very large number of men who are cunning and the general prevalence of selfishness the number of successful financiers is surprisingly small. But Gorman did not give me a chance of speaking.
“Political life in every modern state,” said Gorman, “is poisoned, poisoned at its source by the influence of the great financial houses. Democracy is in shackles. Its leaders are gagged. Progress is stopped. Politics are barren——” He delivered this oration at dinner one night, and when he came to the barrenness of politics he knocked over Ascher’s bottle of Perrier Water with a sweep of his hand “and it is the subtle influence of the financiers, the money kings, what the Americans used to call the Gold Bugs, which is responsible for the mischief.”
Ascher assented with a sort of wavering smile.
“The proof of what I say,” said Gorman, “is to be found in the well-known fact——”