Enclosed and safe within its central heart,
Nestles the seed perfection.’”
“That crass optimism,” said the Altruist, sternly, “is materialistic and superficial. It simply ignores the vileness of a sin-stricken world.”
This question, as to whether the People are more sane at heart than the not-People we never settled, for the committee-meeting drew to its close.
When we separated, I went into the corridor with the Altruist for a parting word.
“I am very sanguine in regard to our club,” he said, stroking his smooth-shaven chin. “Janet will do fine work if her power can be set free. I find it hard to be patient with her unreasonable pessimism.”
“It isn’t quite fair to call it unreasonable, is it,” I murmured, “until one knows the reason for it? We have not yet discovered that.”
“As for the Doctor,”—he continued, not noticing my remark, “she is a forceful woman, but crude. I actually feel that she does not understand me half the time when I am talking. Of course she springs too directly from the People to be thoroughly fine. And our difference in belief would always make full spiritual communion impossible.”
Then he looked at me, and his eyes lighted up.
“I have an idea that you comprehend me better than any of the others,” he said, graciously.