“Of course, you’re very unhappy in reality. Everyone is, as long as he’s neglecting his powers and aptitudes.”
“Very many thanks,” said Peer, with a laugh. Klaus sat up in his chair, a little anxious as to what was coming.
Ferdinand was still looking out over the lake. “You seem to despise your own trade—as engineer?”
“Yes,” said Peer.
“And why?”
“Why, I feel the lack of some touch of beauty in our ceaseless craving to create something new, something new, always something new. More gold, more speed, more food—are these things not all we are driving at?”
“My dear fellow, gold means freedom. And food means life. And speed carries us over the dead moments. Double the possibilities of life for men, and you double their numbers.”
“And what good will it do to double their numbers? Two thousand million machine-made souls—is that what you want?”
“But hang it all, man,” put in Klaus Brock eagerly, “think of our dear Norway at least. Surely you don’t think it would be a misfortune if our population increased so far that the world could recognise our existence.”
“I do,” said Peer, looking away over the lake.