Lord Chetwode smiled encouragingly.
"Fire away!"
"There's something I want particularly to ask you."
There was a pause. Such a remark as this from any one but Savile would have alarmed Chetwode, suggesting something in the nature of a scene, but he felt pretty safe with his brother-in-law of sixteen. He wondered what on earth the boy wanted, and felt only good-humouredly amused. Savile had chosen his words before he came, and had that rash longing we all feel when we have made out a verbal programme, to make the suitable remark before the occasion arises.
"We're both men of the world," began Savile.
"Are we, though?" said Chetwode. "Please spare me this irony! You're a man of the world all right, I know. I don't pretend to be."
"May as well come to the point," said Savile. "You know Woodville, don't you?"
"Woodville? Rather. Capital chap. What's wrong with him?"
"There's nothing wrong with him," said Savile, "but I want to get him something to do."
"Really? Doesn't he like being with you and Sir James and Sylvia, and all that?"