“Get rid of them? Ye gods, that would be a task! The Negro is the sentimental pet of the nation. Put him on a continent alone, and he will sink like an iron wedge to the bottomless pit of barbarism. But he is the ward of the Republic--our only orphan, chronic, incapable. That wardship is a grip of steel on the throat of the South. Back of it is an ocean of maudlin sentimental fools. I am simply making the most of the situation. I didn’t make it to order. I’m just doing the best I can with the material in hand.” “Why don’t you come out like a man and defy this horde of fools?” “Martyrdom has become too cheap. The preachers have a hundred thousand missionaries now we are trying to support.” “Allan, I thought you held below the rough surface of your nature high ideals,--you don’t mean this.” “What could one man do against these millions?” “Do!” she cried, her face ablaze. “The history of the world is made up of the individuality of a few men. A little Yankee woman wrote a crude book. The single act of that woman’s will caused the war, killed a million men, desolated and ruined the South, and changed the history of the world. The single dauntless personality of George Washington three times saved the colonies from surrender and created the Republic. I am surprised to hear a man of your brain and reading talk like that!” “When I am with you and hear your voice I have heroic impulses. You are the only human being with whom I would take the time to discuss this question. But the current is too strong. The other way is easier, and it serves my ends better. Besides, I am not sure it isn’t better from every point of view. We’ve got the Negro here, and must educate him.” “Hush! Tell that to somebody that hates you, not to me,” she cried. “Don’t you think we must educate them?” “No, I think it is a crime.” “Would you leave them in ignorance, a threat to society?” “Yes, until they can be moved. When I see these young negro men and women coming out of their schools and colleges well dressed, with their shallow veneer of an imitation culture, I feel like crying over the farce.” “Surely, Mrs. Durham, you believe they are better fitted for life?” “They are not. They are lifted out of their only possible sphere of menial service, and denied any career. It is simply inhuman. They are led to certain slaughter of soul and body at last. It is a horrible tragedy.” Allan looked at her, smiled, and replied, “I knew you were a bitter and brilliant woman but I didn’t think you would go to such lengths even with your pet aversions.”