He tossed restlessly on his pillow. If only that woman would stop crying, perhaps he could get a better line on the thing! But she did not stop, and somehow while she cried he could see nothing good in Bangs or what he stood for. Hour after hour his ambition and his love fought against his principles, and dawn found him still awake, staring at the ceiling.
Going back to town after an early breakfast, he said to Mr. Bangs:
"I've been thinking it over, sir, and if you don't mind I think I'll keep the position I've got."
"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Bangs. "You decline the promotion?"
"I am afraid I am not the man for the job," said Quin.
"That's for me to decide."
Quin was visibly embarrassed. After his enthusiasm of the night before, his present attitude called for an explanation.
"Well, you see," he said awkwardly, "it may be good business and all that, but there are some things a fellow can't do when he feels about them the way I do."
"Meaning, I suppose, that your standards are so much higher than those of the rest of us that you cannot trade in the market-place?"
"No, sir; I don't mean anything of the kind," Quin flashed back, hot at the accusations of self-righteousness, but unable to defend himself without criticizing his employer.