Nikhil read the title on the cover, but said nothing. "These writers," I continued, "are busy with their brooms, sweeping away the dust of epithets with which men have covered up this world of ours. So, as I was saying, I wish you would read it." "I have read it," said Nikhil. "Well, what do you say?" "It is all very well for those who really care to think, but poison for those who shirk thought." "What do you mean?" "Those who preach 'Equal Rights of Property' should not be thieves. For, if they are, they would be preaching lies. When passion is in the ascendant, this kind of book is not rightly understood." "Passion," I replied, "is the street lamp which guides us. To call it untrue is as hopeless as to expect to see better by plucking out our natural eyes." Nikhil was visibly growing excited. "I accept the truth of passion," he said, "only when I recognize the truth of restraint. By pressing what we want to see right into our eyes we only injure them: we do not see. So does the violence of passion, which would leave no space between the mind and its object, defeat its purpose." "It is simply your intellectual foppery," I replied, "which makes you indulge in moral delicacy, ignoring the savage side of truth. This merely helps you to mystify things, and so you fail to do your work with any degree of strength." "The intrusion of strength," said Nikhil impatiently, "where strength is out of place, does not help you in your work ... But why are we arguing about these things? Vain arguments only brush off the fresh bloom of truth." I wanted Bee to join in the discussion, but she had not said a word up to now. Could I have given her too rude a shock, leaving her assailed with doubts and wanting to learn her lesson afresh from the schoolmaster? Still, a thorough shaking-up is essential. One must begin by realizing that things supposed to be unshakeable can be shaken. "I am glad I had this talk with you," I said to Nikhil, "for I was on the point of lending this book to Queen Bee to read." "What harm?" said Nikhil. "If I could read the book, why not Bimala too? All I want to say is, that in Europe people look at everything from the viewpoint of science. But man is neither mere physiology, nor biology, nor psychology, nor even sociology. For God's sake don't forget that. Man is infinitely more than the natural science of himself. You laugh at me, calling me the schoolmaster's pupil, but that is what you are, not I. You want to find the truth of man from your science teachers, and not from your own inner being." "But why all this excitement?" I mocked. "Because I see you are bent on insulting man and making him petty." "Where on earth do you see all that?" "In the air, in my outraged feelings. You would go on wounding the great, the unselfish, the beautiful in man." "What mad idea is this of yours?"