cracy
would be a farce if there never was such a thing as a capitalist."

"Not content with that," said Gorman, "they keep an iron grip upon
industry. They fatten on the fruits of other men's brains. They hold
the working man in thrall, exploiting his energy for their own selfish
greed, starving his women and children----"

Gorman ought to keep that sort of thing for public meetings. It is
thoroughly bad form to make speeches to an audience of one. I must say
that he seldom does. I suppose that his intimate association with Mrs.
Ascher had spoiled his manners in this respect. She encouraged him to be
oratorical. But I am not Mrs. Ascher, and I saw no reason why I should
stand that kind of thing at my own dinner table.

"But the day is coming," I said, "when organised labour will rise in its
might and claim its heritage in the fair world which lies bathed in the
sunlight of a nobler age."

Gorman looked at me doubtfully for an instant, only for a single
instant. Almost immediately his eyes twinkled and he smiled
good-humouredly.

"You ought to go in for politics," he said. "You really ought. I
apologise. Can't think what came over me to talk like that."

I cannot resist Gorman when he smiles. I felt that I too owed an
apology.

"After all," I said, "you must practise somewhere. I don't blame you in
the least; though I don't profess to like it. No one can do that sort of
thing extempore and if it happens to suit you to rehearse at dinner----"

"Nonsense," said Gorman. "There's not the slightest necessity for
practice. I could do it by the hour and work sums in my head at the same
time. Any one could."

Gorman is modest. Very few people can make speeches like his,
fortunately for the world.

"All the same," he said, reverting abruptly to the starting point of his
speech, "it's a pity we have to let Ascher into this new cinematograph
racket; but we can't help it. In fact I expect he's in already."

"Lending money to Tim for experiments?"

"He wouldn't do that," said Gorman, "unless he'd made sure of his share
of the spoil afterwards."

"Gorman," I said, "why don't you make a law to suppress Ascher. You
believe in making laws, and, according to your own showing, that would
be a very useful one."

Gorman gave me no answer. I knew he could not, because there is no
answer to give. If laws had any effect on life, as Gorman pretends to
believe, he would make one which would do away with Ascher. But he knows
in