Saturday, July 3, 2010

The Windsor Magazine, June 1905

Mr. Bowring, in the silence of the rose-lit drawing-room, thought of all the Devonshire Mansion, with its endless corridors and innumerable rooms, its acres of carpets, its forests of furniture, its gold and silver, and its jewels and its wines, its pretty women and possessive men - the whole humming microcosm founded on an unanimous pretence that the sacredness of property was a natural law. And he thought how disconcerting it was that he should be trapped there, helpless, in the very middle of the vast pretence, and forced to admit that the sacredness of property was a purely artificial convention.
from The Loot of Cities: The Adventures of a Millionaire in Search of Joy, No. 1 - The Fire of London by Arnold Bennett

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