"And this stuff," said Sir Richmond, bringing his hand down so smartly
on the table that the startled coffee cups cried out upon the tray; "was
given to men to give them power over metals, to get knowledge with, to
get more power with."
"The oil story, I suppose, is as bad."
"The oil story is worse....
"There is a sort of cant," said Sir Richmond in a fierce parenthesis,
"that the supplies of oil are inexhaustible--that you can muddle about
with oil anyhow.... Optimism of knaves and imbeciles.... They don't want
to be pulled up by any sane considerations...."
For some moments he kept silence--as if in unspeakable commination.
"Here I am with some clearness of vision--my only gift; not very clever,
with a natural bad temper, and a strong sexual bias, doing what I can
to get a broader handling of the fuel question--as a common interest
for all mankind. And I find myself up against a lot of men, subtle men,
sharp men, obstinate men, prejudiced men, able to get round me, able to
get over me, able to blockade me.... Clever men--yes, and all of them
ultimately damned--oh! utterly damned--fools. Coal owners who think only
of themselves, solicitors who think backwards, politicians who think
like a game of cat's-cradle, not a gleam of generosity not a gleam.
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