"Yet you feel that the sociologist has no such relation?"

He glanced up sharply. At the subtly hostile look in her eyes, his
expression became, for the first time, a little interested.

"How do you deduce that?"

"Oh!... It is loose, if you like--but I deduce it from what you have
said--and implied--about your father and--having friends."

But what she thought of, most of all, was the case of Fifi.

She stood across the table, facing him, looking down at him; and there
was a faintly heightened color in her cheeks. Her eyes were the clearest
lapis lazuli, heavily fringed with lashes which were blacker than
Egypt's night. Her chin was finely and strongly cut; almost a masculine
chin, but unmasculinely softened by the sweetness of her mouth.

Mr. Queed eyed her with some impatience through his round spectacles.

"You apparently jumble together the theory and what you take to be the
application of a science in the attempt to make an impossible unit.
Hence your curious confusion. Theory and application are as totally
distinct as the poles. The few must discover for the many to use. My own
task--since the matter appears to interest you--is to work out the laws
of human society for those who come after to practice and apply."

"And suppose those who come after feel the same unwillingness to
practice and apply that you, let us say, feel?"