“Then,” said David dryly, “religion is a mighty elusive thing to tackle. There are some Indians—I forget which brand their religion is—think it right to treat the poor little widows as scum on the face of the earth, but I don’t fancy any amount of thinking can make it right to treat any woman that way. There’s injustice somewhere if that’s the way to deal with them.”
“It’s karma,” said Corin succinctly.
David pitched a pebble seawards.
“I’ve heard you use that word before,” he remarked, “but for the life of me I don’t know what you’re driving at.”
Here was Corin’s chance. You may be sure he jumped at it. I’ve vowed I’ll not follow his meditative flights in this direction, but I fear me I’ll be bound to transcribe his speeches.
“Karma,” quoth he, “shows us clearly the justice of the whole of the so-called injustice of the world.”
David grinned.
“It’s not what you might call a little subject,” he remarked.
“Yet,” retorted Corin, “it is simplicity itself. No evil suffered by man, woman, or child is undeserved. It is suffered as punishment for sin committed.”
David looked down towards the sea.