George got Allen away. The angular man was glad to see him.
"You look overworked," George said. "Come have a modest supper with me."
Allen was hungry, but he managed to grumble discouragement over his food.
"They laugh. They'll stop listening for the price of a glass of beer."
"Maybe," George said, kindly, "they realize it's no good trying to help them."
"They've got to be helped," Allen muttered.
"Then," George suggested, "put them in institutions, but don't expect me nor any one else to approve when you urge them to grab the leadership of the world. You must have enough sense to see it would mean ruin. I know they're not all like this lot, but they're all a little wrong or they wouldn't need help."
"It's because they've never had a chance," Allen protested.
It came to George that Allen had never had a chance either, and he wondered if he, too, could be led aside by the price of a glass of beer.
"You all want what the other fellow's got," he said. "From that one motive these social movements draw the bulk of their force. A lot for nothing is a perfect poor man's creed."