Splurge: Waste, sir?
Sladder: Pure waste. What do you suppose becomes of all that soap, all that good fat? Proteids, I think they call 'em. And proteids are good for you, Splurge.
Splurge: What becomes of them, sir? They're used up.
Sladder: No, Splurge. They disappear, I grant you. They float away. But they're still there Splurge, they're still there. All that good fat is somewhere.
Splurge: But—but, sir—but—In the drains, sir?
Sladder: All those million of cakes of soap. There must be tons of it, Splurge. And we'll get it.
Splurge: You are a wonderful man, sir.
Sladder: O, I've a few brains, Splurge. That anyone might have. But I use mine, that's all. There's cleverer people than me in the world——
Splurge: No, sir.
Sladder: O, yes, there are. Lots of them. But they're damned fools. And why? 'Cause they don't use their brains. They mess about learning Greek. Greek! Can you believe it? What good does Greek ever do them?... But the money's not made yet, Splurge.