Part 47 (1/2)
”There's a good deal in the bread and b.u.t.ter interpretation of history.
The push of life, its pressure, drives us to think. Out of thought grow new hopes and a broader vision.”
”And then?”
”Pretty soon the thought will flood the world that we make our own poverty, that G.o.d and nature have nothing to do with it. After that we'll proceed to eliminate it.”
”By means of Mr. Marchant's perfect state?”
”Not by any revolution of an hour probably. Society cannot change its nature in a day. We'll pa.s.s gradually from our present state to a better one, the new growing out of the old by generations of progress. But I think we will pa.s.s into a form of socialism. It will be necessary to repress the predatory instinct in us that has grown strong under the present system. I don't much care whether you call it democracy or socialism. We must recognize how interdependent we are and work together for the common good.”
They had come to the car line that would take her home. Up the hill a trolley car was coming.
”May I not see you home?” Jeff dared to ask.
”You may.”
They left the car at Lakeview Park and crossed it to The Brakes. Every step of that walk led Jeff deeper into an excursion of endearment. It was amazingly true that he trod beside her an acknowledged friend, a secret lover. The turn of her head, the shadowy smile bubbling into laughter, the gracious undulations of the body, indeed the whole dear delight of her presence, belonged for that hour to him alone.
CHAPTER 21
Many a man has kept his self-respect through a long lifetime of decalog breaking, only to go to smash like a crushed eggsh.e.l.l when he commits the crime of being found out.
--From the Note Book of a Dreamer.
THE HERO IS PAINED TO FIND THAT EVEN IN A WELL-REGULATED WORLD THE G.o.dS ARE JUST, AND OF OUR PLEASANT VICES MAKE INSTRUMENTS TO PLAGUE US
Going back across the park Jeff trod the hilltops. He was not thinking about society, except that small unit of it represented by a slender, golden girl who had just bidden him good-bye. And because his heart sang within him his footsteps turned toward the office of his cousin. There had been between them of late an estrangement. Since the lawyer had been appointed general attorney for the Transcontinental and had formed a partners.h.i.+p with Scott, thus bringing to the firm the business of the public utility corporations, James had not found much time for Jeff. He was a member of the most important law firm on the Pacific Coast, judged by the business it was doing, and he had definitely cut loose politically from his former a.s.sociates. His cousin blamed himself for the change in their personal relations, and he meant to bring things back to the old basis if he could.
It was past office hours, but a light in the window of the junior member's private office gave promise that James might be in. Leaving the elevator at the fourth floor, he walked down the corridor toward the suite occupied by the firm.
Before he reached the door Jeff stopped. Something unusual was happening within. There came to him the sounds of shuffling feet, of furniture being smashed, of an angry oath. Almost at once there was a thud, as if something heavy had fallen. The listener judged that a live body was thras.h.i.+ng around actively. The impact of blows, a heavy grunt, a second stifled curse, decided Farnum. Pus.h.i.+ng through the outer office, he entered the one usually occupied by James.
Two men were on the floor, one astride of the other. The man on top was driving home heavy jarring blows against his opponent's face and head.
Jeff ran forward and dragged him away.
”Good heavens, Sam! What's the matter?” his friend demanded in surprise.
Miller waited panting, his fists still doubled, the l.u.s.t of battle in his eyes.
”The d.a.m.ned cad! The d.a.m.ned cad!” was all he could get out.
From the floor James Farnum was rising. His forehead, his cheek, and his lips were bleeding from cuts. One of his eyes was closing rapidly. There was a dogged look of fear in the battered face.
”I tripped over a chair, he explained, glaring at his foe.
”d.a.m.n you then, stand up and fight!”
Disgust and annoyance were pictured on the damaged countenance of the lawyer. ”I don't fight with riff raff from the streets.”