"Do you know what the thing was published at?" asked Abraham in an off-hand way. "No." "Fifty pounds." "I don't care about the value. It's the kindness. You couldn't have given me anything, either, that would have delighted me so much." "All right; keep it, and there's an end of the matter. And what do you do with yourself all day, eh? I didn't think it very likely I should find you in." "I'm writing a novel." "H'm. Shall you get anything for it?" "Can't say. I hope so." "Look here. Why don't you go in for politics?" "Neither know nor care anything about them." "Would you like to go into Parliament?" "Wouldn't go if every borough in England called upon me to-morrow!" "Why not?" "Plainly, I think myself too good for such occupation. If you once succeed in getting _outside_ the world, you have little desire to go back and join in its most foolish pranks." "That's all damned nonsense! How can any one be too good to be in Parliament? The better men you have there, the better the country will be governed, won't it?" "Certainly. But the best man, in this case, is the man who sees the shortest distance before his nose. If you think the world worth all the trouble it takes to govern it, go in for politics neck and crop, by all means, and the world will no doubt thank you in its own way." Abraham looked puzzled, and half disposed to be angry. "Then you think novel-writing better than governing the country?" he asked. "On its own merits, vastly so." "And suppose there was no government What about your novels then?" "I'd make a magnificent one out of the spectacle of chaos." "But you know very well you're talking bosh," exclaimed Abraham, somewhat discomfited. "There must be government, and there must be order, say what you like. It's nature that the strong should rule over the weak, and show them what's for their own good. What else are we here for? If you're going to be a parson, well and good; then cry down the world as much as you please, and think only about heaven and hell. But as far as I can make out, there's government there too. The devil rebelled and was kicked out. Serve him right. If he wasn't strong enough to hold his own, he'd ought to have kept quiet." "You're a Conservative, of course," said Waymark, smiling. "You believe only in keeping the balance. You don't care about reform." "Don't be so sure of that. Let me have the chance and the power, and I'd reform hard enough, many a thing." "Well, one might begin on a small scale. Suppose one took in hand Litany Lane and Elm Court? Suppose we exert our right as the stronger, and, to begin with, do a little whitewashing? Then sundry stairs and ceilings might be looked to. No doubt there'd be resistance, but on the whole it would be for the people's own good. A little fresh draining mightn't be amiss, or--" "What the devil's all this to do with politics?" cried Abraham, whose face had grown dark.