“What book?”
“A book by Walter Millis called The Road to War.”
“Oh, and what in hell does he know about it? Who is he—a communist?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh, you don’t think so. Jameson, I should say that before you try to instruct the minds of our sons and daughters you’d find out who an author is. He may be only a paid agent of Stalin. Besides that, you said all wars have been stupid.” Cuthwright looked at his notes. “You said England and the United States don’t intend to let Japan dominate the East. Why in hell,” demanded Cuthwright angrily, “shouldn’t we dominate the East? You mean to tell me you’d let a bunch of Japs do it?” Cuthwright thumped the table. “And you said the United States should boycott Italy if it invades Ethiopia. What in hell is it our business if they go down and fight those niggers? And where are we to sell our goods if you communists close up all the foreign markets? I suppose you’d let England sell guns and stack ours up in the Metropolitan Museum! Well, do you deny any of those statements?”
“No.”
“All right, Jameson, we’ll have to ask for your resignation.”
Jameson was very pale now but his gaze was unwavering. “For more than twenty years I’ve lived here and taught here.”
“I know, I know, Jameson. We’re sorry about it. But our duty—what you don’t understand, Jameson, is that the welfare of the State is greater than that of any individual. You didn’t use to be a communist.”
“And I’m not one now.”