'Well, get on,' said De Forest wearily. 'What is your silly trouble anyway?'
'Too much dam' Democracy,' said the Mayor, laying his hand on De Forest's knee.
'So? I thought Illinois had had her dose of that.'
'She has. That's why. Blut, what did you do with our prisoners last night?'
'Locked 'em in the water-tower to prevent the women killing 'em,' the Chief of Police replied. 'I'm too blind to move just yet, but--'
'Arnott, send some of your people, please, and fetch 'em along,' said De Forest.
'They're triple-circuited,' the Mayor called. 'You'll have to blow out three fuses.' He turned to De Forest, his large outline just visible in the paling darkness. 'I hate to throw any more work on the Board. I'm an administrator myself, but we've had a little fuss with our Serviles. What? In a big city there's bound to be a few men and women who can't live without listening to themselves, and who prefer drinking out of pipes they don't own both ends of. They inhabit flats and hotels all the year round. They say it saves 'em trouble. Anyway, it gives 'em more time to make trouble for their neighbours. We call 'em Serviles locally. And they are apt to be tuberculous.'
'Just so!' said the man called Mulligan. Transportation is Civilisation. Democracy is Disease. I've proved it by the blood-test, every time.'
'Mulligan's our Health Officer, and a one-idea man,' said the Mayor, laughing. 'But it's true that most Serviles haven't much control. They will talk; and when people take to talking as a business, anything may arrive--mayn't it, De Forest?'
'Anything--except the facts of the case,' said De Forest, laughing.