"
"High-Priest! Look at that girl slinking along there, with her eye on
us; suppose, instead of withdrawing your garment, you went over and
talked to her, got her to tell you what she really felt and thought,
you'd find things that would astonish you. At bottom, mankind is
splendid. And they're raised, sir, by the aspiration that's in all
of them. Haven't you ever noticed that public sentiment is always in
advance of the Law?"
"And you," said Miltoun, "are the man who is never on the side of the
majority?"
The champion of lost causes uttered a short laugh.
"Not so logical as all that," he answered; "the wind still blows; and
Life's not a set of rules hung up in an office. Let's see, where are
we?" They had been brought to a stand-still by a group on the pavement
in front of the Queen's Hall: "Shall we go in, and hear some music, and
cool our tongues?"
Miltoun nodded, and they went in.
The great lighted hall, filled with the faint bluefish vapour from
hundreds of little rolls of tobacco leaf, was crowded from floor to
ceiling.
Taking his stand among the straw-hatted throng, Miltoun heard that
steady ironical voice behind him:
"Profanum vulgus! Come to listen to the finest piece of music ever
written! Folk whom you wouldn't trust a yard to know what was good for
them! Deplorable sight, isn't it?"
He made no answer.
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