"What good would you be doing if you weren't at home!"
Austin looked at Sidney's grave face and laughed.
"I'd be storing honey like the busy bees: imbibing knowledge and having a good time generally. No, I wouldn't! It was a mistake going to Oxford. I'm not a scholar. I want to travel. The de Cressiers are as narrow as—as—give me an apt simile!—A thread of silk! I want my mind broadened."
"You ought to have had a profession."
"It's the eldest son's role to be in the Service—a very stupid arrangement, for he never stays there long."
"I don't think it is wise to grumble at what you're doing now, for it is work. You must be a check on Dobbs, and you can't deny that you're a pleasure and comfort to your parents."
"Oh, Sid, don't be a stuffy prig!"
"Well, don't ask for my opinion then."
"Did I?"
"You invited it! Of course, you're very young, and you think that life ought to be your servant. You will discover that it may be your master."