The chief thing
that's wrong with human nature is bad health. I'm getting the
world ready for Victor.''
``You like him?''
``I worship him,'' said Charlton in his most matter-of- fact way.
``Yet he's just the opposite of you. He's an idealist.''
``Who told you that?'' laughed Charlton. ``He's the most
practical, sensible man in this town. You people think he's a
crank because he isn't crazy about money or about stepping round
on the necks of his fellow beings. The truth is, he's got a
sense of proportion-- and a sense of humor--and an idea of a
rational happy life. You're still barbarians, while he's a
civilized man. Ever seen an ignorant yap jeer when a neat,
clean, well- dressed person passed by? Well, you people jeering
at Victor Dorn are like that yap.''
``I agree with you,'' said Jane hastily and earnestly.
``No, you don't,'' replied Charlton, tossing away the end of his
cigarette. ``And so much the worse for you. Good-night, lady.''
And away he strode into the darkness, leaving her amused, yet
with a peculiar sense of her own insignificance.
Charlton was back again early the next morning and spent that
day--and a large part of many days there- after--in working at
the wreck, Martin Hastings, inspecting known weak spots,
searching for unknown ones, patching here and there, trying all
the schemes teeming in his ingenious and supremely sensible mind
in the hope of setting the wreck afloat again.
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