me would be longer.
His recalcitrance--she said--was a symptom of his whole attitude; he was
taking it lying down. He ought to be fighting. When was he going to see
the man who had cured Paul Post? Jolyon was very sorry, but the fact was
he was not going to see him. June chafed. Pondridge--she said--the
healer, was such a fine man, and he had such difficulty in making two
ends meet, and getting his theories recognised. It was just such
indifference and prejudice as her father manifested which was keeping him
back. It would be so splendid for both of them!

"I perceive," said Jolyon, "that you are trying to kill two birds with
one stone."

"To cure, you mean!" cried June.

"My dear, it's the same thing."

June protested. It was unfair to say that without a trial.

Jolyon thought he might not have the chance, of saying it after.

"Dad!" cried June, "you're hopeless."

"That," said Jolyon, "is a fact, but I wish to remain hopeless as long as
possible. I shall let sleeping dogs lie, my child. They are quiet at
present."

"That's not giving science a chance," cried June. "You've no idea how
devoted Pondridge is. He puts his science before everything."

"Just," replied Jolyon, puffing the mild cigarette to which he was
reduced, "as Mr. Paul Post puts his art, eh? Art for Art's sake
--Science for the sake of Science. I know those enthusiastic egomaniac
gentry. They vivisect you without blinking. I'm enough of a Forsyte to
give them the go-by, June."

"Dad," said June, "if you only knew how old-fashioned that sounds! Nobody
can afford to be half-hearted nowadays."

"I'm afraid," murmured Jolyon, with his smile, "that's the only natural
symptom with which Mr. Pondridge need not supply me. We are born to be
extreme or to be moderate, my dear; though, if you'll forgive my saying
so, half the people nowadays who believe they're extreme are really very
moderate. I'm getting on as well as I can expect, and I must leave it at
that."

June was silent, having experienced in her time the inexorable character
of her father's amiable obstinacy so far as his own freedom of action was
concerned.

How he came to let her know why Irene had taken Jon to Spain puzzled
Jolyon, for he had little confidence in her discretion. After she had
brooded on the news, it brought a rather sharp discussion, during which
he perceived to the full the fundamental opposition between her active
temperament and his wife's passivi