Lord Moors said, "We don't seem to be
getting on. What Mrs. Thrall fails to see, and I confess I don't quite
see it myself, is that if we are not here _in forma pauperis_--"
"But you _are_ here _in forma pauperis_," Cyril interposed, smilingly.
"How is that? If we are willing to pay--if Mr. Thrall's credit is
undeniably good--"
"Mr. Thrall's credit is not good in Altruria; you can pay here only in
one currency, in the sweat of your faces."
"You want us to be Tolstoys, I suppose," Mrs. Thrall said,
contemptuously.
Cyril replied, gently, "The endeavor of Tolstoy, in capitalistic
conditions, is necessarily dramatic. Your labor here will be for your
daily bread, and it will be real." The inner dullness of the woman came
into her eyes again, and he addressed himself to Lord Moors in
continuing: "If a company of indigent people were cast away on an English
coast, after you had rendered them the first aid, what should you do?"
The young man reflected. "I suppose we should put them in the way of
earning a living until some ship arrived to take them home.
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