"It's no business of mine."
"You are the son of the man who saved my life."
"Oh don't," I replied, and a tear dropping plump on the back of my hand settled me. "I was going to say ashamed of yourself."
"To think that any one should say that in the presence of my son," he said, and dropped my hand.
"I have said it a hundred times, but no one else has ever had the pluck to," Hubert put in.
"Kick a worm when he doesn't turn," he said confusedly.
"That's all rot," I answered, and something compelled me to walk up to him and tap him on the shoulder. "You aren't a worm, and I wouldn't dare to kick you. Wouldn't dare, do you see; you're a fine, big chap, why in heaven's name don't you pull yourself together? I don't know much about it, but I'll bet it's worth it. A man like you oughtn't to go crying like a baby."
"No sympathy," he moaned.
"Rot," I said again. "I shall tell my uncle about you, he'll be a jolly useful friend."
"What's he?"