The young man turned towards him. The lines of his mouth had relaxed into a smile of tolerant indifference.
“I have no sympathy, sir,” he answered, “with the class you name. On a sinking ship, the cry is always, ‘Save the women and children.’ It is the less fortunate in the world’s possessions who represent the women and children of shipwrecked morality. It is for their betterment that we work.”
Deyes sighed gently.
“It is a pity,” he declared. “I am convinced that there is a magnificent opening for mission work amongst the idle classes.”
“No doubt,” the young man agreed quickly. “The question is whether the game is worth the candle.”
Deyes made no reply. Lady Peggy was laughing softly to herself.
“I have heard all that you have to say, Mr. Macheson,” the mistress of Thorpe said calmly, “and I can only repeat that I think your presence here as a missioner most unnecessary. I consider it, in fact, an——”
She hesitated. With a sudden flash of humour in his deep-set eyes, he supplied the word.
“An impertinence, perhaps!”