Therefore let’s live the mental life, and glory in our spite, and strip the rotten old show. But, mind you, it’s like this; while you live your life, you are in some way an organic whole with all life. But once you start the mental life you pluck the apple. You’ve severed the connection between the apple and the tree: the organic connection. And if you’ve got nothing in your life but the mental life, then you yourself are a plucked apple … you’ve fallen off the tree. And then it is a logical necessity to be spiteful, just as it’s a natural necessity for a plucked apple to go bad.”
Clifford made big eyes: it was all stuff to him. Connie secretly laughed to herself.
“Well then, we’re all plucked apples,” said Hammond, rather acidly and petulantly.
“So let’s make cider of ourselves,” said Charlie.
“But what do you think of Bolshevism?” put in the brown Berry, as if everything had