want to."

"That scarcely surprises me, I confess," the Doctor remarked.

There was a definite dryness in his tone, and Armine noticed it.

"You are prejudiced, I see," he said.

In his voice there was a sound of disappointment.

"I don't exactly know why, but I have always looked upon you as one of
the most fair-minded, broad-minded men I have met, Isaacson," he said.
"Not as one of those who must always hunt with the hounds."

"The question is, What is prejudice? The facts of a life are facts, and
cannot leave one wholly uninfluenced for or against the liver of the
life. If I see a man beating a dog because it has licked his hand, I
draw the inference that he is cruel. Would you say that I am
narrow-minded in doing so? If one does not judge men and women by their
actions, by what is one to judge them? Perhaps you will say, 'Don't
judge them at all.' But it is impossible not to form opinions on people,
and every time one forms an opinion one passes a secret judgment. Isn't
it so?"

"I think feeling enters into the matter. Often one gets an immediate
impression, before one knows anything about the facts of a life. The
facts may seem to give that impression the lie. But is it wrong? I think
very often not. I remember once I heard a woman, and a clever woman, say
of a man whom she knew intimately, 'They accuse him of such and such an
act. Well, if I saw him commit it, I would not believe he had done it!'