“Oh, yes, some. All of us are freebooters in this generation.”
“Why have you never spoken to me of them?”
“Oh, Professor, I never bother you with ideas. Jarvis, I think if you do it over, you could sell it.”
“I hate doing things over—the spontaneity all gone.”
“Well, you’ve got to do it over, that’s all. You’ve murdered that woman, and it is wicked. She must be resuscitated and given another chance.”
“Will you help me?”
She looked at him with a quick flash of pleasure.
“Oh, I would so love to. I can’t help you build it, but I can tell you what I feel is wrong.”
“We will begin to-morrow.”
“Are all your works as extreme as this?” queried the Professor.
“They are all cross-sections of life, which is extreme,” replied Jarvis.
“You young people read riddles into life. It is as simple as two plus two is four.”
“There you are—two plus two does not necessarily make four. It makes five or forty. It depends on the symbols. Nothing in the world is
