"My young friend," he murmured, "you may say that to yourself, but it is not true. It is not life for you to buy these articles of food at one price and sell them for another; to hold the profit in your hand and smile. That is what life means in Tooley Street. You could do it for a little time, perhaps, but not for very long."
"It may seem absurd to you," Arnold protested, "but it's my duty for the present, anyhow, and I am going to do it. I shall have to work ten hours a day and I shall have no time for dreams. I am going to stay in the atmosphere I have to live in."
Sabatini shook his head.
"You must have relaxation."
"I can find it," Arnold replied. "I can find it without going so far afield."
Sabatini was silent for a moment. He was a man of few expressions, but he seemed a little disappointed.
"Will you do your duty any the less zealously, do you think," he asked, "because you have friends who take an interest in you?"
Arnold was suddenly conscious of the ungraciousness of his attitude.
"You don't understand!" he exclaimed, a little desperately. "Your world wasn't made for me. I haven't any place in it. My work is here. I can't allow myself always to be distracted. Your sister is the most wonderful person I ever met, and it is one of the greatest pleasures I have ever known to talk to her, even for a few minutes, but I am more at peace with myself and with the world when I am away from her."
There was a gleam of approval in Sabatini's dark eyes. He nodded thoughtfully.