"
Burton rose abruptly to his feet.
"These details," he said, "I must leave to Mr. Cowper. You have the
beans. I have done my share."
The professor caught hold of his arm.
"Sit down, my dear fellow--sit down," he begged. "We have not finished
our discussion. The whole subject is most engrossing. We cannot have
you hurrying away. Mr. Bunsome's suggestion is, of course, hideously
Philistine, but, after all, we want the world to know the truth."
"But the truth about me," Burton protested, "may not be the truth about
this food. How do you know that you can reproduce the beans at all
in an artificial manner?"
"Science, my young friend--science," the professor murmured. "I tell
you that the problem is already nearly solved."
"Supposing you do solve it," Burton continued, "supposing you do produce
a food which will have the same effect as the beans, do you realize what
you are doing? You will create a revolution. You will break up
life-long friendships, you will revolutionize business, you will swamp
the divorce courts, you will destroy the whole fabric of social life for
at least a generation. Truth is the most glorious thing which the brain
of man ever conceived, but I myself have had some experience of the
strange position one occupies who has come under its absolutely
compelling influence.
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