“Why, if you’ve got no money, of course,” said Crass impatiently.
The others laughed disdainfully. It seemed to them such a foolish question.
“Well, that’s true enough as far as it goes,” returned Owen, “that is, as things are arranged in the world at present. But money itself is not wealth: it’s of no use whatever.”
At this there was another outburst of jeering laughter.
“Supposing for example that you and Harlow were shipwrecked on a desolate island, and YOU had saved nothing from the wreck but a bag containing a thousand sovereigns, and he had a tin of biscuits and a bottle of water.”
“Make it beer!” cried Harlow appealingly.
“Who would be the richer man, you or Harlow?”
“But then you see we ain’t shipwrecked on no dissolute island at all,” sneered Crass. “That’s the worst of your arguments. You can’t never get very far without supposing some bloody ridclus thing or other. Never mind about supposing things wot ain’t true; let’s ’ave facts and common sense.”
“’Ear, ’ear,” said old Linden. “That’s wot we want—a little common sense.”
“What do YOU mean by poverty, then?” asked Easton.