"And you understand yourself?"
"I have no illusions about myself at all, old chap. I know my limitations."
"Well, would you mind telling me why you are a bit of a nut?" I asked. "It isn't usual for a country dominie to wear a wing collar, a bow tie, and shot-silk socks."
"That's easy," he said quickly. "I think that teachers haven't the social standing they ought to have, and I dress well to uphold the dignity of the profession. Don't you believe me?" he demanded as I smiled.
"Quite! I believe you're quite honest in your belief, but it's wrong you know. There must be a much more personal reason than that."
"Rot!" he said. "Anyway, what is the reason?"
"I don't know, Mac; it would take months of research to discover it. I can't explain your psychology, but I'll tell you something about my own. These swagger corduroys I'm wearing . . . when I bought them someone asked me why I chose corduroy, and I at once answered: 'Economy! They'll last ten years!' But that wasn't the real reason, I bought them because I wanted to have folk stare at me. I've got an inferiority complex, that is an inner feeling of inferiority. To compensate for it I go and order a suit that will make people look at me; in short, that I may be the centre of all eyes, and thus gain a feeling of outward superiority."
This sent Mac off into a roar of laughter.
"You're daft, man!" he roared.
After a minute or two he said; "But what has all this to do with Tom
Murray?"