Winkles, very profoundly, and walked to the hearth-rug.
"Hm.

But--Here's the point.

_Ought_ you ?" "Ought we--what ?" "Ought you to publish ?" "We're not in the Middle Ages," said Redwood.
"I know." "As Cossar says, swapping wisdom--that's the true scientific method." "In most cases, certainly.

But--This is exceptional." "We shall put the whole thing before the Royal Society in the proper way," said Redwood.
Winkles returned to that on a later occasion.
"It's in many ways an Exceptional discovery." "That doesn't matter," said Redwood.
"It's the sort of knowledge that could easily be subject to grave abuse--grave dangers, as Caterham puts it." Redwood said nothing.
"Even carelessness, you know--" "If we were to form a committee of trustworthy people to control the manufacture of Boomfood--Herakleophorbia, I _should_ say--we might--" He paused, and Redwood, with a certain private discomfort, pretended that he did not see any sort of interrogation....
Outside the apartments of Redwood and Bensington, Winkle, in spite of the incompleteness of his instructions, became a leading authority upon Boomfood.

He wrote letters defending its use; he made notes and articles explaining its possibilities; he jumped up irrelevantly at the meetings of the scientific and medical associations to talk about it; he identified himself with it.