Billy, after a
pause.
"No especial ones," said he.
"Well," said she, "you should cultivate some. Enemies are the spice
of life. I mean it, really," she declared, as she saw him smile.
"I had never thought of it," said he.
"Have you never known what it is to get into a really good fight?
You see, you are conventional, and you don't like to acknowledge it.
But what is there that wakes one up more than a good, vigorous
hatred? Some day you will realise it--the chief zest in life is to
go after somebody who hates you, and to get him down and see him
squirm."
"But suppose he gets you down?" interposed Montague.
"Ah!" said she, "you mustn't let him! That is what you go into the
fight for. Get after him, and do him first."
"It sounds rather barbarous," said he.
"On the contrary," was the answer, "it's the highest reach of
civilisation. That is what Society is for--the cultivation of the
art of hatred. It is the survival of the fittest in a new realm. You
study your victim, you find out his weaknesses and his foibles, and
you know just where to plant your sting.
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