"Where science leads it. There's the only clear thinking. What's the good of talking when men don't know why they're here, or what they are? When they had heaven and hell, they thought clearly enough. Your new gospel leads them into a morass. It couldn't very well lead them anywhere else. The things that go on evolve as we ourselves have evolved. All the politicians, parliaments, philosophers don't help them a jot. They were saying the same thing on the top of monoliths before the flood. We are driven—but we don't know why or whither unless we believe, as all but the fools have believed, by Almighty God."
Bertie Morris helped himself to an orange salad.
"Say, why don't you write all this?"
"Because I've something better to do. My business is to make guns and to sell 'em."
The journalist pricked up his ears.
"There was some talk of a big contract of yours going through here. Is that right?"
"Ah! you'd pay something to know—and a good many more. Did they couple d'Arny to the talk?"
"Well, it's chiefly up to him. He's a lot of backers up against him in the Chambers. Jaurés says he's corrupt."
"He'd have to be in his job. We're all corrupt, for that matter. I believe that Walpole's right. I'd buy any man body and soul for a price."
"And women too—I don't think."