“Great things have been thrust on us, Gladys.”
“We have carried their burden.”
“Only as far as the Stock Exchange.”
She shook her head. “I believe in the race,” she cried.
“It represents the survival of the pushing.”
“It has development.”
“Decay fascinates me more.”
“What of art?” she asked.
“It is a malady.”
“Love?”
“An illusion.”
“Religion?”
“The fashionable substitute for belief.”
“You are a sceptic.”
“Never! Scepticism is the beginning of faith.”
“What are you?”
“To define is to limit.”
“Give me a clue.”
“Threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth.”
“You bewilder me. Let us talk of someone else.”