METROPOLIS "Perhaps," "And suppose you were to hear. to-morrow, that he were dead ... that would leave you untouched ... ?" "Yes:' Freder was silent. His father's hand slipped over a lever, and pressed it down. The white lamps in all the rooms surrounding the brain-pan of the New Tower of Babel went out. The Master over Metropolis had informed the circular world around him that he did not wish to be disturbed without urgent cause. "1 cannot tolerate it," he continued, "when a man, working upon Metropolis, at my right hand, in common with me, denies the only great advantage he possesses above the machine." •And what is that, father?" "To take delight in work," said the Master over Metropolis. Feeder's hand glided over his hair, then rested on its glorious fairness. He opened his lips, as though he wanted to say something; but he remained silent. "Do you suppose:' Joh Fredersen went on, that I need my secretaries' pencils to check American stock-exchange reports? The index tables of Rotwang's trans-ocean trumpets are a hundred times more reliable and swift than clerk's brains and hands. But, by the accuracy of the machine 1 can measure the accuracy of the men, by the breath of the machine, the lungs of the men who compete with her." "And the man you just dismissed, and who is doomed (for to be dismissed b.y you, father, means going downl Downl ... Downl ... ) he lost his breath, didn't her' "Yes." "Because he 'as a man and not a machine... :' "Because he denied his humanity before the machine." Freder raised his head and his deeply troubled eyes. "I cannot follow yop. now, father," he said, as if in pain. The expression of patience on Joh Frederseo's face deepened. «The man," he said quietly, "was my first secretaryl The salary he drew was eight times as large as that of the last.
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