"Hasn't the brain a tendency to overshadow, to brow-beat the heart?" he said. "Isn't it often arrogant in its strength?"
"One must let both have an innings," said Isaacson, smiling at the slang which suited him so little and suited Nigel so well.
"Yes, and I believe you do. That's why—but to go on with what we were saying. You've got a long sight into things. Now, living generally, as you do, here in London, don't you think that men and women living in crowds often get off the line of truth and kindness? Don't you think that being all together, backed up, as it were, by each other—as a soldier is by his regiment when going into battle—they often become hard, brutal, almost get the blood-lust into them at times?"
Isaacson did not reply for a moment.
"Perhaps sometimes they do," he answered at last.
"And don't you think they require sacrifices?"
"Do you mean human sacrifices?"
"Yes."
"Perhaps—sometimes."
"Why have you never been to call on Mrs. Chepstow?"