“Of any class. But there aren’t many rich ones. Mostly like me and Jack, not quite simple working men. A few doctors and architects and that sort.”
“And do you think it means much to them?”
Jaz shifted his thick body uneasily in his chair.
“You never can tell,” he said.
“That’s true,” said Somers. “I don’t really know how much Jack Callcott cares. I really can’t make out.”
“He cares as much as about anything,” said Jaz. “Perhaps a bit more. It’s more exciting.”
“Do you think it is the excitement they care about chiefly?”
“I should say so. You can die in Australia if you don’t get a bit of excitement.” There was silence for a minute or two.
“In my opinion,” said Somers, “it has to go deeper than excitement.” Again Jaz shifted uneasily in his chair.
“Oh, well—they don’t set much store on deepness over here. It’s easy come, easy go, as a rule. Yet they’re staunch chaps while the job lasts, you know. They are true to their mates, as a rule.”