“One cocktail.”
“Seem well disposed?”
“Fair to moderate. Likes you; doesn’t like me. Thinks I’m a coarse brute.”
Nick smiled. “Well, you’re not a fairy, Aggett. He’s a delicately nurtured young man, you must remember. Old county family, and God knows what!”
“I know about that,” Aggett answered. “I don’t go much by the fruit that grows on the family tree.”
“That’s where you are at fault.”
“Fault be damned. Then is that what you are at—makin’ the most of the Hartington family connection?”
Nick laid down his dividers and turned to face Aggett. “No,” he said. “That particular connection doesn’t happen to be of any use to me.”
“Well, what is it then? Look here, Ordith, I’m in with you in all your pretty little schemes—or am I wrong? No? Very good, then. I give you expert engineering advice—and you won’t find a better combination of theory and practice than there is in me. I help you all I can. Probably I get nothing out of it. I’m prepared to risk that. I’ll chance your caring to remember me when you are Ordith and Co. But I want to know right now what you are up to. Why are you bringing in this Sub? What the hell use is he to be? Tell me straight.”