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A murder at a country house embroils its weekend guests in an international regicide, while a famous jewel thief may be lurking among them.

Page 328 of 339
Table of Contents

XXX

You see, when I was very young, I had democratic ideas. Believed in the purity of ideals, and the equality of all men. I especially disbelieved in kings and princes.”

“And since then?” asked Battle shrewdly.

“Oh, since then, I’ve travelled and seen the world. There’s damned little equality going about. Mind you, I still believe in democracy. But you’ve got to force it on people with a strong hand⁠—ram it down their throats. Men don’t want to be brothers⁠—they may some day, but they don’t now. My final belief in the Brotherhood of Man died the day I arrived in London last week, when I observed the people standing in a Tube train resolutely refuse to move up and make room for those who entered. You won’t turn people into angels by appealing to their better natures just yet awhile⁠—but by judicious force you can coerce them into behaving more or less decently to one another to go on with. I still believe in the Brotherhood of Man, but it’s not coming yet awhile. Say another ten thousand years or so. It’s no good being impatient. Evolution is a slow process.”

“I’m very interested in these views of yours, sir,” said Battle with a twinkle. “And if you’ll allow me to say so, I’m sure you’ll make a very fine king out there.”

“Thank you, Battle,” said Anthony with a sigh.

“You don’t seem very happy about it, sir?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I dare say it will be rather fun. But it’s tying oneself down to regular work. I’ve always avoided that before.”

“But you consider it your duty, I suppose, sir?”

“Good Lord, no! What an idea. It’s a woman⁠—it’s always a woman, Battle. I’d do more than be a king for her sake.”

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