She smiled at him.
“Is it nearly done?”
“Well, the bulk of it’s done, but I’m always adding things to it. You see I want it to be a sort of book of reference. If you want to find out where Mohammedanism resembles Buddhism you turn to where the two things are compared, belief by belief. But all this is very boring for you.”
“It isn’t. I like it. Don’t you think it’s extraordinary, with all the guidance that it has, that mankind goes so frightfully astray?”
“I suppose it is. But I always think that we expect too much of our fellow man. He’s all right. Only give him time. He’s got such a lot to unlearn.”
“You mean he has all his brutal beginnings to forget?”
He nodded.
“I imagine I see him evoluting all the way from brute to angel, or something like it. He’s about at Half Way House now, I think. Wars, of course, give him a bit of a setback.”
“I suppose they do.”
“Oh, rather! I’m sure they do. Not necessarily for every individual, you understand, but for the mass. I hate guns and noise and warfare like the majority of my kind. I always have and I always shall. But at the same time, when there’s a fight on I’ve got to be there, and if there’s going to be a top dog, I want my fellows to be it. Half Way House, you see!”