Hold your tongue, you insolent heathen. Burge: I spoke to you.
BURGE-LUBIN. Well, you know, my dear Barnabas, Confucius is a very
long-headed chap. I see his point.
BARNABAS. Do you? Then let me tell you that, except officially, I will
never speak to you again. Do you hear?
BURGE-LUBIN [_cheerfully_] You will. You will.
BARNABAS. And don't you ever dare speak to me again. Do you hear? [_He
turns to the door_].
BURGE-LUBIN. I will. I will. Goodbye, Barnabas. God bless you.
BARNABAS. May you live forever, and be the laughingstock of the whole
world! [_he dashes out in a fury_].
BURGE-LUBIN [_laughing indulgently_] He will keep the secret all right.
I know Barnabas. You neednt worry.
CONFUCIUS [_troubled and grave_] There are no secrets except the secrets
that keep themselves. Consider. There are those films at the Record
Office. We have no power to prevent the Master of the Records from
publishing this discovery made in his department. We cannot silence the
American--who can silence an American?--nor the people who were there
today to receive him.
Pages:
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358