light will come."

"When you talk like that," Mr. Foley declared, "you seem to us, Mr.
Maraton, to pass outside the pale of logical argument. But we want to
understand you. You mean that for the sake of altering our social
conditions, you would, if you thought it necessary, let this country be
conquered, plunge her for a hundred years or more into misery deeper
than any she has yet known? What good do you suppose could come of
this? The poor who are poor now would starve then. From whom would
come the mammoth war indemnity we should have to pay?"

"Not from the poor," Maraton replied. "That is one of my theories. It
would come from the very class whom I would willingly see enfeebled--the
greedy, grasping, middle class. The poor must exist automatically.
They could not exist on lower wages; therefore, they will not get lower
wages. If there is no employment for them, they will help themselves to
the means for life. If there is money in the country, they have a right
to a part of it and they will take it. The unfit amongst them will die.
The unfit are better dead."

"This is a dangerous doctrine, Mr. Maraton," Lord Armley remarked.

"It is a primitive law," Maraton answered. "Put yourself down amongst
the people, with a wife by your side and children crying to you for
bread. Would you call yourself a man if you let them starve, if you
sent your children sobbing away from you when there was bread to be had
for the fighting, bread to be taken from those who had also meat? I
think not. I am not afraid of plunging the country into disaster. It
is my belief that the sufferings and the loss which would ensue would
not fall upon the class who are already dwelling in misery."

Mr. Foley moved nervously to the mantelpiece and helped himself to a
cigarette.

"Mr. Maraton," he said, "we will not argue on these lines. I like to
feel my feet upon the earth. I like to deal with the things one knows
about. Grant me this, at least; that it is possible to reach the end at
which you are striving, by milder means?"

"It may be," Maraton admitted. "I am not sure. Milder means have been
tried for a good many generations. I tell you frankly that I do not
believe it is possible by legislation to redistribute the wealth of the
world."

Lord Armley, from his seat amongst the shadows, smiled sarcastically.

"You, too, Mr. Maraton," he murmured. "What is your answer, I wonder,
to the oft quoted question? You may redistribute wealth, but h