“Then you won't do for us.”
“Why not?”
“Your age, sir.”
“I give you my word that I can see as well as ever, and am as good a man in every way.”
“I don't doubt it.”
“Why should my age be a bar, then?”
“Well, I must put it plainly. If a man of your age, holding certificates, has not got past a second officer's berth, there must be a black mark against him somewhere. I don't know what it is, drink or temper, or want of judgment, but something there must be.”
“I assure you there is nothing, but I find myself stranded, and so have to turn to the old business again.”
“Oh, that's it,” said the manager, with suspicion in his eye. “How long were you in your last billet?”
“Fifty-one years.”