But it's a pity, you know, to give in!
One must stand up for one's rights."
Carol murmured: "You don't understand - you don't understand in the least..." Her hands twisted together nervously.
Sarah went on: "One gives in sometimes because one is afraid of rows. Rows are very unpleasant, but I think freedom of action is always worth fighting for."
"Freedom?" Carol stared at her. "None of us has ever been free. We never will be."
"Nonsense!" said Sarah clearly.
Carol leaned forward and touched her arm.
"Listen.
I must try and make you understand!
Before her marriage my mother - she's my stepmother really - was a wardress in a prison.
My father was the Governor and he married her. Well, it's been like that ever since.
She's gone on being a wardress - to us.
That's why our life is just - being in prison!" Her head jerked around again. "They've missed me. I - I must go."
Sarah caught her by the arm as she was darting off.
"One minute.
We must meet again and talk."
"I can't. I shan't be able to."
"Yes, you can." She spoke authoritatively. "Come to my room after you go to bed.
It's 319.
Don't forget; 319."
She released her hold.
Carol ran off after her family.
Sarah stood staring after her.
She awoke from her thoughts to find Dr. Gerard by her side.
"Good morning, Miss King.
So you've been talking to Miss Carol Boynton?"
"Yes, we had the most extraordinary conversation. Let me tell you."
She repeated the substance of her conversation with the girl.
Gerard pounced on one point.
"Wardress in a prison, was she, that old hippopotamus?
That is significant, perhaps."
Sarah said: "You mean that that is the cause of her tyranny?
It is the habit of her former profession?"
Gerard shook his head.
"No, that is approaching it from the wrong angle.
There is some deep underlying compulsion.
She does not love tyranny because she has been a wardress. Let us rather say that she became a wardress because she loved tyranny.
In my theory it was a secret desire for power over other human beings that led her to adopt that profession." His face was very grave. "There are such strange things buried down in the unconscious.
A lust for power - a lust for cruelty - a savage desire to tear and rend - all the inheritance of our past racial memories...
They are all there, Miss King, all the cruelty and savagery and lust... We shut the door on them and deny them conscious life, but sometimes they are too strong."
Sarah shivered.
"I know."
Gerard continued: "We see it all around us today - in political creeds, in the conduct of nations.
A reaction from humanitarianism, from pity, from brotherly good will.
The creeds sound well sometimes, a wise regime, a beneficent government - but imposed by force - resting on a basis of cruelty and fear.
They are opening the door, these apostles of violence, they are letting out the old savagery, the old delight in cruelty for its own sake! Oh, it is difficult.
Man is an animal very delicately balanced.
He has one prime necessity - to survive.
To advance too quickly is as fatal as to lag behind.
He must survive! He must, perhaps, retain some of the old savagery, but he must not - no, definitely he must not - deify it!"