"Oh, yes; there's no doubt of that. But, with one or two unimportant exceptions, they're conventional and prejudiced. They believe in what they see; the prosperity of Allinson's, the dividends coming in. They distrust anything that seems out of the usual course, and they couldn't bring themselves to think there should be anything wrong with the firm. I, whom they good-naturedly look down on, have to convince them to the contrary."
"It will be hard; one can understand that. But the feeling of helplessness that troubles you now will pass. You must remember that you have borne enough to exhaust you."
"My body's tired," Andrew admitted. "One can get over that. The real difficulty is that my mind feels sick."
"Is there no connection between the two?" Geraldine smiled at him. "You make me think it's the first time you have had any serious difficulties."
"That's true. It looks as if there were some benefit in being dull. You're saved a good deal of trouble if you don't notice things."
"I didn't mean that," Geraldine objected. "You're not really dull, you know."
"Then I'm something like it. But you don't think I've been foolish in starting on this campaign?"
"No!" said Geraldine promptly. "I think you are doing what is fine! You must go on; I want you to win. The difficulties won't look so serious if you attack them one by one, and it must be worth something to have the right on your side. There is so much injustice everywhere and few people seem to mind. No doubt it's dangerous to interfere, but it's encouraging to find a man here and there who is not afraid."
She looked up at a sound and saw her father standing in the doorway.
"One here and there?" smiled Frobisher. "You're not exacting. In France, they once asked for a hundred men who knew how to die, and found them in one southern town."