It's scandalous, sir, such work as ours should
depend on things like that. You and I ought to be under the State, sir,
if you'll excuse me."
"Nothing to excuse," I said. "I've always been a Socialist--of a
sort--in theory. Let's go and have a look at him. How is he? Deflated?"
"Just about quarter full. That last oil glaze of yours holds the gas
something beautiful. He's not lost a cubic metre a week."...
Cothope returned to Socialism as we went toward the sheds.
"Glad to think you're a Socialist, sir," he said, "it's the only
civilised state. I been a Socialist some years--off the Clarion. It's a
rotten scramble, this world. It takes the things we make and invent and
it plays the silly fool with 'em. We scientific people, we'll have to
take things over and stop all this financing and advertisement and that.
It's too silly. It's a noosance. Look at us!"
Lord Roberts B, even in his partially deflated condition in his shed,
was a fine thing to stare up at. I stood side by side with Cothope
regarding him, and it was borne in upon me more acutely than ever that
all this had to end.
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