“And you were going to set the world right; weren’t you?”
“Well, I thought there were some things in the world that needed to be set right; I still think so.”
“For instance?”
“For instance, the unequal distribution of wealth.”
“Oh, every one can’t be rich. Who’d do the world’s work?”
“No, every one can’t be rich, that’s true. But if things were properly adjusted every one would have plenty, and there would be no poverty.”
“That’s some of your socialistic nonsense, Hal. I’ve got a right to be rich if I can get the money honestly. And I’m going to be rich, too, if hard work will get me there.”
“Ah, but you’re Benjamin Barriscale’s son. And your father is a millionaire. And you’ve got a chance that no other fellow in this town has. That’s what I’m finding fault with. Opportunity should be equal for all of us. And when things are set right it will be.”
How much longer this sociological discussion would have continued had it not been interrupted is uncertain. But it was interrupted. An automobile drew up to the curb, and in it was seated Miss Sarah Halpert, alone save for the driver of the car. Her appearance and manner indicated that she was a woman of some importance in the community. She was appropriately gowned, attractive in looks, and under the brim of her flower-bedecked hat her abundant hair showed becomingly gray. The fair-haired boy greeted her cordially as Aunt Sarah, the dark and stocky one with due courtesy, as Miss Halpert.