“As to those land concessions,” he began again, “my proposition is fair and square …”
Hector Wade jerked himself back into the reality of things.
“Mr. Warburton,” he said, “I do not doubt it in the least. Fair and square. Of course. But only fair and square according to the limits of your understanding!”
“The—limits of my …?” Mr. Warburton stammered. An angry red flushed his lean cheeks. He did not like to have his probity impugned, even in a roundabout way; and it was that which the other was evidently trying to do.
“According to the limits of your understanding—exactly!” Hector went on. “But not according to the understanding of Asia.”
“Is this an ethical discussion or a business discussion?” demanded the financier with a faint sneer.
“Both—as it ought to be. You see, your ideas on progress and happiness …”
“Interchangeable terms!”
“So you say! Your ideas and those of the Orient do not happen to dovetail. You say that money, and the progress which money buys, is happiness; and the Orient replies that poverty can often be a far greater happiness—if poverty brings contentment.”
“Poverty—brings—contentment?” Here was a revolutionary theory which nettled the financier.
“Poverty from your point of view,” smiled Hector, “and not from the point of view of the Orient. My Tamerlanis”—and he dwelt just a little on the “my”—“
