“Subtly put,” sneered Mr. Plover. “If we were to follow up that theory, we might find it necessary on investigation to raise statues to our forgers and murderers, instead of sending them to the hulks and the gallows.”
“It opens a curious train of thought, nevertheless,” remarked Lord Roxham.
“I don’t fancy it would be a very profitable one to pursue,” said Plover.
“I have sometimes considered whether it may not on given occasions be justifiable to do evil; I mean technically evil, as we class things,” said Lord Roxham.
“For instance?” said Mr. Langrove.
“Well, for instance—I’ll put it mildly—to convey a false idea of facts, as your friend X—— seems to have done in this libel business. I suppose there are cases where it would be morally justifiable?”
“To tell a lie, you mean? That is a startling proposition,” said the vicar, smiling.
“It has the merit of originality, at least,” observed Mr. Plover, helping himself to a tumblerful of claret.
“I’m afraid it can’t boast even that,” said Lord Roxham; “it is only an old sophism rather bluntly put.”
“I should like to hear the Count de la Bourbonais’ opinion on it,” said Mr. Plover, rolling the decanter across to his self-elected antagonist.