warmth. Lilian Rosenberg almost fell
over them, but they took no notice of her. Every now and then, one of
them would emerge from the shelter of the trees, and cross the grass
in the direction of the distant, gleaming water, with silent, stealthy
tread. Once a tall, gaunt figure, suddenly sprang up and confronted
the two adventurers; but the moment Kelson raised his stick, it
jabbered something wholly unintelligible, and sped away into the
darkness.

"A scene like this makes one doubt the existence of a good God,"
Lilian Rosenberg said.

"It makes one doubt the existence of anything but Hell," Kelson said.
"Compared with all this suffering--the suffering of these thousands of
hungry, hopeless wretches--the bulk of whom are doubtless tortured
incessantly, with the pains of cancer and tuberculosis, to say nothing
of neuralgia and rheumatism--Dante's Inferno and Virgil's Hades pale
into insignificance. The devil is kind compared with God."

"I believe you are right," Lilian Rosenberg said, "I never thought the
devil was half as bad as he was painted. The Park to-night gives the
lie direct to the ethics of all religions, and to the boasted efforts
of all governments, churches, chapels, hospitals, police, progress and
civilization. There is no misery, I am sure, to vie with it in any
pagan land, either now or at any other period in the world's history."

"True," Kelson replied, "and why is it? It is because civilization has
killed charity. Giving--in its true sense--if it exists at all--is
rarely to be met with--giving in exchange--that is, in order to
gain--flourishes everywhere. People will subscribe for the erection of
monuments to kings and statesmen, or to well-known and, often,
richly-endowed charitable institutes, in exchange for the pleasure of
seeing, in the newspapers, a list of the subscribers' names, and
themselves included amongst those whom they consider a peg above them
socially; or in exchange for votes, or notoriety, they will give
liberally to the brutal strikers, or outings for poor."

"I suppose, by the poor, you mean the pampered, ill-mannered and
detestably conceited County Council children," Lilian Rosenberg chimed
in. "I wouldn't give a farthing to such a miscalled charity, no--not
if I were rolling in riches."

"And I think you would be right," Kelson replied. "But for these
really poor Park refugees it is a different matter. Obviously, no one
will make the slightest effort to work up the pub