"If you feel like that," he said, "I can't go. I shall tell Mother that I ought to try and work. There's always the condition of the world!"
"The condition of the world!"
Jon thrust his hands deep into his pockets.
"But there is," he said; "think of the people starving!"
Fleur shook her head. "No, no, I never, never will make myself miserable for nothing."
"Nothing! But there's an awful state of things, and of course one ought to help."
"Oh! yes, I know all that. But you can't help people, Jon; they're hopeless. When you pull them out of a hole they only get into another. Look at them, still fighting and plotting and struggling, though they're dying in heaps all the time. Idiots!"
"Aren't you sorry for them?"
"Oh! sorry—yes, but I'm not going to make myself unhappy about it; that's no good."
And they were silent, disturbed by this first glimpse of each other's natures.