Mr. Stone shook his head; then, evidently following out a thought which
Hilary had interrupted, he remarked:

"The sentiment that men call honour is of doubtful value. I have not as
yet succeeded in relating it to universal brotherhood."

"How is that, sir?"

"In so far," said Mr. Stone, "as it consists in fidelity to principle,
one might assume it worthy of conjunction. The difficulty arises when
we consider the nature of the principle .... There is a family of young
thrushes in the garden. If one of them finds a worm, I notice that his
devotion to that principle of self-preservation which prevails in all
low forms of life forbids his sharing it with any of the other little
thrushes."

Mr. Stone had fixed his eyes on distance.

"So it is, I fear," he said, "with 'honour.' In those days men looked on
women as thrushes look on worms."

He paused, evidently searching for a word; and Hilary, with a faint
smile, said:

"And how did women look on men, sir?"

Mr. Stone observed him with surprise. "I did not perceive that it was
you," he said. "I have to avoid brain action before bathing."