Beside them, little pot-bellied men in light suits and panama hats; clean, pink men with puzzled worried eyes, with restless eyes… In their lapels the insignia of lodges and service clubs, places where they can go and, by a weight of numbers of little worried men, reassure themselves business is noble and not the curious ritualised thievery they know it is that business men are intelligent in spite of the records of their stupidity; that they are kind and charitable in spite of the principles of sound business; that their lives are rich instead of the thin tiresome routines they know; and that a time is coming when they will not be afraid anymore.