ver tell us?

THE ARCHBISHOP. I am surprised at the question, coming from so astute a
mind as yours, Mr Secretary. When you reach the age I reached before I
discovered what was happening to me, I was old enough to know and fear
the ferocious hatred with which human animals, like all other animals,
turn upon any unhappy individual who has the misfortune to be unlike
themselves in every respect: to be unnatural, as they call it. You will
still find, among the tales of that twentieth-century classic, Wells,
a story of a race of men who grew twice as big as their fellows, and
another story of a man who fell into the hands of a race of blind men.
The big people had to fight the little people for their lives; and the
man with eyes would have had his eyes put out by the blind had he not
fled to the desert, where he perished miserably. Wells's teaching, on
that and other matters, was not lost on me. By the way, he lent me five
pounds once which I never repaid; and it still troubles my conscience.

CONFUCIUS. And were you the only reader of Wells? If there were others
like you, had they not the same reason for keeping the secret?

THE ARCHBISHOP. That is true. But I should know. You short-lived people
are so childish. If I met a man of my own age I should recognize him at
once. I have never done so.

MRS LUTESTRING. Would you recognize a woman of your age, do you think?

THE ARCHBISHOP. I--[_He stops and turns upon her with a searching look,
startled by the suggestion and the suspicion it rouses_].

MRS LUTESTRING. What is your age, Mr Archbishop?

BURGE-LUBIN. Two hundred and eighty-three, he says. That is his little
joke. Do you know, Mrs Lutestring, he had almost talked us into
believing him when you came in and cleared the air with your robust
common sense.

MRS LUTESTRING. Do you really feel that, Mr President? I hear the note
of breezy assertion in your voice. I miss the note of conviction.

BURGE-LUBIN [_jumping up_] Look here. Let us stop talking damned
nonsense. I don't wish to be disagreeable; but it's getting on my
nerves. The best joke won't bear being pushed beyond a certain point.
That point has been reached. I--I'm rather busy this morning. We all
have our hands pretty full. Confucius here will tell you that I have a
heavy day before me.

BARNABAS. Have you anything more important than this thing, if it's
true?

BURGE-LUBIN. Oh, if if, if it's true! But it isn't true.

BARNABAS. Have you anything at