Angel Island

"I don't exactly like your, use of the word right, Ralph," said Billy.

"You mean duty, don't you?"

"And he'd better change that to privilege," put in Pete Murphy,

scowling.

"Shut up, you mick," Honey interposed, flicking Pete on the ear with a

pebble. "What do you know about machinery?"

Pete grinned and subsided for a moment. Honey could always placate him

by calling him a mick."

"No," Ralph went on obstinately, addressing himself this time to Billy,

"I mean right. Of course, I mean right," he went on with one of his,

gusty bursts of, irritation. "For God's sake, don't be so high-brow and

altruistic."

"How about it, Frank?" Billy said, turning to Merrill.

"Well," said Frank slowly, "I don't exactly know how to answer that

question. I don't know what you mean by the word - right. I take it that

you mean what our right would be if these flying-maidens permitted

themselves to become our friends. I would say, that, in such a case, you

would have the only right that any man ever has, as far as women are

concerned - the right to woo. If he wins, all well and good. If he

loses, he must abide by the consequences."

"You're on, Frank," said Billy Fairfax.

You've said the last word."

"In normal condition, I'd agree with you," Ralph said. "But in these

conditions I disagree utterly."

"How?" Frank asked. "Why?" He turned to Ralph with the instinctive

equability that he always presented to an opponent in argument.

"Well, in the first place, we find ourselves in a, situation

unparalleled in the world's history." Ralph had the air of one who is

saying aloud for the first time what he has said to himself many times.

At any rate, he proceeded with an unusual fluency and glibness.

"Circumstances alter cases. We can't handle this situation by any of the

standards we have formerly known. In fact, we've got to throw all our

former standards overboard. There are five of these girls. There are

five of us. Voila! Following the laws of nature we have selected each of

us the mates we prefer. Or, following the law that Bernard Shaw

discovered, the ladies have selected, each of them, the mates that they

prefer. They are now turning themselves inside out to prove to us that

we selected them. Voila! The rest is obvious. If they come to terms, all

right! If they don't - " He paused. "I repeat that we are placed in, a

situation new in the history of the world. I repeat the bromidion -

circumstances alter cases. We may have to stay on this island as long as

we live. I am perfectly willing to confess that just now I'd rather not

be rescued. But it's over our months that we've been here. We must think

of the future. The future justifies anything. If these girls don't come

to terms, they must be made to come to terms. You'll find I'm right."