"It has made me old. But I like your youth."

Paul answered nothing--they sat for a minute in silence. They heard the
others going on about the governmental majority. Then "What do you mean
by false gods?" he enquired.

His companion had no difficulty whatever in saying, "The idols of the
market; money and luxury and 'the world;' placing one's children and
dressing one's wife; everything that drives one to the short and easy
way. Ah the vile things they make one do!"

"But surely one's right to want to place one's children."

"One has no business to have any children," St. George placidly declared.
"I mean of course if one wants to do anything good."

"But aren't they an inspiration--an incentive?"

"An incentive to damnation, artistically speaking."

"You touch on very deep things--things I should like to discuss with
you," Paul said. "I should like you to tell me volumes about yourself.
This is a great feast for _me_!"

"Of course it is, cruel youth. But to show you I'm still not incapable,
degraded as I am, of an act of faith, I'll tie my vanity to the stake for
you and burn it to ashes. You must come and see me--you must come and
see us," the Master quickly substituted. "Mrs. St. George is charming; I
don't know whether you've had any opportunity to talk with her. She'll