'Yet the hope began in a lie,' rejoined Peak, bitterly. 'It will always be pleasant to look back upon that, won't it? You see: by no conceivable honest effort could I have gained this point. Life utterly denied to me the satisfaction of my strongest instincts, so long as I plodded on without cause of shame; the moment I denied my faith, and put on a visage of brass, great possibilities opened before me. Of course I understand the moralist's position. It behoved me, though I knew that a barren and solitary track would be my only treading to the end, to keep courageously onward. If I can't _believe_ that any such duty is imposed upon me, where is the obligation to persevere, the morality of doing so? That is the worst hypocrisy. I have been honest, inasmuch as I have acted in accordance with my actual belief.' 'M--m--m,' muttered Earwaker, slowly. 'Then you have never been troubled with a twinge of conscience?' 'With a thousand! I have been racked, martyred. What has that to do with it? Do you suppose I attach any final significance to those torments? Conscience is the same in my view as an inherited disease which may possibly break out on any most innocent physical indulgence.--What end have I been pursuing? Is it criminal? Is it mean? I wanted to win the love of a woman--nothing more. To do that, I have had to behave like the grovelling villain who has no desire but to fill his pockets. And with success!--You understand that, Earwaker? I have succeeded! What respect can I have for the common morality, after this?' 'You have succeeded?' the other asked, thoughtfully. 'I could have imagined that you had been in appearance successful'---- He paused, and Peak resumed with vehemence: 'No, not in appearance only. I can't tell you the story'---- 'I don't wish you to'---- 'But what I have won is won for ever. The triumph no longer rests on deceit. What I insist upon is that by deceit only was it rendered possible. If a starving man succeeds in stealing a loaf of bread, the food will benefit him no less than if he had purchased it; it is good, true sustenance, no matter how he got it. To be sure, the man may prefer starvation; he may have so strong a metaphysical faith that death is welcome in comparison with what he calls dishonour. I--I have no such faith; and millions of other men in this country would tell the blunt truth if they said the same. I have _used means_, that's all. The old way of candour led me to bitterness and cursing; by dissimulation I have won something more glorious than tongue can tell.'