“That is our goal, perhaps—­I admit it, as far as science goes,” said the fair-haired student, rising to the challenge.  “But there are things above science.”

“Science,” said Hill confidently, “is systematic knowledge.  Ideas that don’t come into the system—­must anyhow—­be loose ideas.”  He was not quite sure whether that was a clever saying or a fatuity until his hearers took it seriously.

“The thing I cannot understand,” said the hunchback, at large, “is whether Hill is a materialist or not.”

“There is one thing above matter,” said Hill promptly, feeling he had a better thing this time; aware, too, of someone in the doorway behind him, and raising his voice a trifle for her benefit, “and that is, the delusion that there is something above matter.”

“So we have your gospel at last,” said the fair student.  “It’s all a delusion, is it?  All our aspirations to lead something more than dogs’ lives, all our work for anything beyond ourselves.  But see how inconsistent you are.  Your socialism, for instance.  Why do you trouble about the interests of the race?  Why do you concern yourself about the beggar in the gutter?  Why are you bothering yourself to lend that book “—­ he indicated William Morris by a movement of the head—­“to everyone in the lab.?”

“Girl,” said the hunchback indistinctly, and glanced guiltily over his shoulder.

The girl in brown, with the brown eyes, had come into the laboratory, and stood on the other side of the table behind him, with her rolled-up apron in one hand, looking over her shoulder, listening to the discussion.  She did not notice the hunchback, because she was glancing from Hill to his interlocutor.  Hill’s consciousness of her presence betrayed itself to her only in his studious ignorance of the fact; but she understood that, and it pleased her.  “I see no reason,” said he, “why a man should live like a brute because he knows of nothing beyond matter, and does not expect to exist a hundred years hence.”

“Why shouldn’t he?” said the fair-haired student.

“Why should he?” said Hill.

“What inducement has he?”

“That’s the way with all you religious people.  It’s all a business of inducements.  Cannot a man seek after righteousness for righteousness’ sake?”

There was a pause.  The fair man answered, with a kind of vocal padding, “But—­you see—­inducement—­when I said inducement,” to gain time.  And then the hunchback came to his rescue and inserted a question.  He was a terrible person in the debating society with his questions, and they invariably took one form—­a demand for a definition, “What’s your definition of righteousness?” said the hunchback at this stage.