They don't believe half they say, they pretend and make believe; they've
got to do so, poor things, because the world they live in is all built up
on ancient foundations of great festering lies. The lies are carefully
coated over and disinfected as much as possible and quite hidden out of
sight, but everybody knows they are there--everybody knows the quaking
foundations they tread upon. Civilization means universal civility, I
suppose, Joan; and to be civil to everybody argues a great power of telling
lies. People call it tact. But I don't like polite society myself, because
my nose is sensitive and I smell the stinking basis through all the pretty
paint. You and I, Joan, belong to Nature. She is not always civil, but you
can trust her; she is seldom polite, but she never says what is not true."
"You talk as though 'e ded'n much like ladies an' gen'lemen, same as you
be."
"I don't, and I'm not what you understand by 'a gentleman,' Joan. Gentlemen
and ladies let me go among them and mix with them, because I happen to have
a great deal of money--thousands and thousands of pounds. That opens the
door to their drawing-rooms, if I wanted to open it, but I don't. I've seen
them and gone about among them, and I'm sick of them. If a man wishes to
know what polite society is let him go into it as a very wealthy bachelor.
I'm not 'a gentleman,' you know, Joan, fortunately."
"Surely, Mister Jan!"
"No more than you're a lady.
Pages:
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112