trebell. [Fastening to his subject again.] My point is this: A man's demand to know the exact structure of a fly's wing, and his assertion that it degrades any child in the street not to know such a thing, is a religious revival . . a token of spiritual hunger. What else can it be? And we commercialise our teaching!
cantelupe. I wouldn't have it so.
trebell. Then I'm offering you the foundation of a new Order of men and women who'll serve God by teaching his children. Now shall we finish the conversation in prose?
cantelupe. [Not to be put down.] What is the prose for God?
trebell. [Not to be put down either.] That's what we irreligious people are giving our lives to discover. [He plunges into detail.] I'm proposing to found about seventy-two new colleges, and of course, to bring the ones there are up to the new standard. Then we must gradually revise all teaching salaries in government schools . . to a scale I have in mind. Then the course must be compulsory and the training time doubled—
cantelupe. Doubled! Four years?
trebell. Well, a minimum of three . . a university course. Remember we're turning a trade into a calling.
cantelupe. There's more to that than taking a degree.
trebell. I think so. You've fought for years for your tests and your atmosphere with plain business men not able to understand such lunacy. Quite right . . atmosphere's all that matters. If one and one don't make two by God's grace . . .
cantelupe. Poetry again!