“There’s no such thing as equality in human nature, any more than in any other nature, Estelle.  Seeds from the same pod are different—­some weak, some strong.  But I grant the main petition.  The idea’s first rate—­a firm basis of right to reasonable life, and security for every human being as our low-water mark; while, on that foundation, each may lift an edifice according to their power.  So that none who has the power to rise above the minimum would be prevented from doing so, and no Trades Union tyranny should interfere to prevent the strong man working eight hours a day if he desires to do so, because the weaker one can only work seven.”

“I think the Trades Unions only want to prevent men being handicapped out of the race at the start,” she answered.  “They know as well as we do, that men are not born equal in mind or body; but rightly and reasonably, they want them all to start equal as far as conditions go.  The race is to the strong and the prize is to the strong; but all, at least, should have power to train for the race and start with equal opportunities to win.  There’s such a lot to be done.”

“There is,” he admitted.  “The handicap you talk of is created for thousands and thousands before they are born at all.”

“Think of being handicapped out of the race before you are born!” she cried.  “What could be more unjust and cruel and wicked than that?”

“Very few will put the unborn before the living, or think of a potential child rather than the desires of the parents—­selfish though they may be.  It’s a free country, and we don’t know enough to start stopping people from having a hand in the next generation if they decide to do so.”

But her enthusiasm was not quenched by difficulties.

“We want science and politics and good will to work together,” she said.

He returned to the smaller argument.

“It’s a far cry to what you want, yet I for one don’t shrink from it.  The better a man is, the larger share he should have of the profits of any enterprise he helps to advance.  Then wages would take the shape of his share in the profits, and you might easily find a head workman of genius drawing more out of a business than—­say, a junior partner, who is a fool and not nearly so vital to the enterprise as he.  But, you see, if we say that, we argue in a circle, for the junior partner, ass though he is, represents oil and fuel, which are just as important as the clever workman’s brains—­in fact, his brains can’t work without them.  Capital and labour are two halves of a whole and depend upon each other, as much as men depend on women and women on men.  Capital does a great deal more than pay labour wages, remember.  It educates his children, builds his houses and doctors his ailments.  Soon—­so they tell me—­capital will be appropriated to look after labour’s old age also, and cheer his manhood with the knowledge that his age is safe.”

“You don’t grudge any of these things, Ray?”