Mallow shuddered. The woman repelled him. There was something uncanny in her bare statement of fact. Even a suggestion of the melodramatic would have relieved her assertion of its sheer brutality. But there was not a tinge of it. She merely stated that the girl should be killed, and went on knitting. "You are not used to these things," she continued; "death is as nothing to us. To kill or to be killed, we are always ready." "Have you no fear?" gasped Mallow. "Of the law? No." "Of God?" "That is a matter between Him and myself." "Ah, well," said Laurence, recovering his self-control, "we had better perhaps avoid anything approaching a theological discussion. But tell me one thing. Who is this Carson?" "Why, who should he be." "Well, he might, for instance, be impersonating the unfortunate man who was murdered in Athelstane Place." Mrs. Arne's hands never stopped. Her colour never changed. "You have imagination, I see," she observed coldly. "That is a pity. It is apt to get people into trouble." "Oh, as to that, I have trouble enough; and now that I have determined to join you, I shall probably have a good deal more." "That is very possible. We are hunted like rats. Why do you wish to join us?" "God knows," said Mallow, with a shrug. "I also know. It is because Mrs. Carson will have nothing to say to you. It is in your despair you come to us, to throw your life away." Mallow breathed more freely now. For the moment he had been unprepared. He had no excuse ready. He had relied upon the supreme egotism and enthusiasm of Drabble to get over any difficulty as to his intentions. But here was the most excellent of reasons already provided for him by Madame Death-in-Life herself. Silently he acquiesced. She saw in him the foolish lover--rejected, dejected, yielding to despair. Mallow's silence convinced her she was right. "You do not speak," she said, glancing at him. "Well, there is no need for you to do so. I am usually right in my conjectures. We have to thank Mrs. Carson for providing us with a promising brother." Mallow protested. "I am not a brother yet," said he, emphatically. "And before I become one I must ask to know your exact aims, and the means by which you hope to accomplish them." "Our aims!" said Mrs. Arne, laying aside her work. "We have but one aim--to establish the equality of man. The rich oppress the poor. There must be no rich, no poor, no oppressed." "That, Madame, is absolutely impossible. Arrange it as you will to-day, you will be where you were to-morrow." "I think not," replied Mrs. Arne. "We intend that each person shall work for the general good, and that he shall be paid by the State. If he refuse to work, then neither shall he be paid nor shall food be allowed to him. In the midst of plenty, he shall starve to death." "A somewhat drastic arrangement, surely?" said Mallow.