a terrible accident. Two children we have lost through sudden
and violent death. (WINIFRED goes out unnoticed.) It made me reflect.
And when I came to reflect, Anabel, I could not justify my position in
life. If I believed in the teachings of the New Testament--which I
did, and do--how could I keep two or three thousand men employed and
underground in the mines, at a wage, let us say, of two pounds a week,
whilst I lived in this comfortable house, and took something like two
thousand pounds a year--let us name any figure---

ANABEL. Yes, of course. But is it money that really matters, Mr. Barlow?

MR. BARLOW. My dear, if you are a working man, it matters. When I
went into the homes of my poor fellows, when they were ill or had had
accidents--then I knew it mattered. I knew that the great disparity was
wrong--even as we are taught that it is wrong.

ANABEL. Yes, I believe that the great disparity is a mistake. But take
their lives, Mr. Barlow. Do you thing they would LIVE more, if they had
more money? Do you think the poor live less than the rich?--is their
life emptier?

MR. BARLOW. Surely their lives would be better, Anabel.

OLIVER. All our lives would be better, if we hadn't to hang on in
the perpetual tug-of-war, like two donkeys pulling at one carrot. The
ghastly tension of possessions, and struggling for possession, spoils
life for everybody.

MR. BARLOW. Yes, I know now, as I knew then, that it was wrong. But
how to avoid the wrong? If I gave away the whole of my income, it would
merely be an arbitrary dispensation of charity. The money would still be
mine to give, and those that received it would probably only be weakened
instead of strengthened. And then my wife was accustomed to a certain
way of living, a certain establishment. Had I any right to sacrifice
her, without her consent?

ANABEL. Why, no!

MR. BARLOW. Again, if I withdrew from the Company, if I retired on a
small income, I knew that another man would automatically take my place,
and make it probably harder for the men.

ANABEL. Of course--while the system stands, if one makes self-sacrifice
one only panders to the system, makes it fatter.

MR. BARLOW. One panders to the system--one panders to the system. And
so, you see, the problem is too much. One man cannot alter or affect the
system; he can only sacrifice himself to it. Which is the worst thing
probably that he can do.

OLIVER. Quite. But why feel guilty for the system?--everybody s