"But haven't I earned it?
Didn't I blister my hands pulling you aboard?"
He promptly shifted ground. "We're living under the capitalistic
system. You earn it and I eat it," he argued. "The rest of this
apple is my reward for having appropriated what didn't belong to
me."
"But that's not fair. It's no better than stealing."
"Sh--h! It's high finance. Don't use that other word," he
whispered. "And what's fair hasn't a thing to do with it. It's my
apple because I've got it."
"But--"
He waved her protest aside blandly. "Now try to be content with
the lot a wise Providence has awarded you. I eat the apple. You
see me eat it.
That's the usual division of profits. Don't be an agitator, or an
anarchist."
"Don't I get even the core?" she begged.
"I'd like to give it to you, but it wouldn't be best. You see I
don't want to make you discontented with your position in life."
He flung what was left of the apple into the sea and came up the
steps to join her.
Laughter was in the eyes of both, but it died out of hers first.
"Mr. Farnum, is it really as bad as that?" Before he could find an
answer she spoke again. "I've wanted for a long time to talk with
some one who didn't look at things as we do.
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