But you forget that you are doing it in order that all
these people who don't count may read about it in the papers and so get a
little harmless relaxation."
"But we don't do it to get into the papers."
"Probably not. Neither did this--what is it here in my plate, a lamb
chop?--this lamb gambol about and keep itself in condition to form a course
at Segur's dinner. But after all, wasn't that what it was really for? Then
think how many people you support by your work."
"You make me feel like a day-labourer."
"Oh, you're a much harder worker than any day labourer. And the saddest
part of it to me is that you work altogether for others. You give, give and
get in return nothing but a few flattering glances, a few careless pats on
the back of your vanity. I should hate to work so hard for so little."
"But what would you do?" Miss Trevor was looking at him, interested and
amused.
"Well, I'd work for myself. I'd insist on a return, on getting back
something equivalent or near it. I'd insist on having my mind improved, or
having my power or my reputation advanced."
"I was only jesting when I said that about people not counting."
"Altogether?"
"No, not altogether. I don't care much about the masses. They seem to me to
be underbred, of a different sort.
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