Mr. Pinhey shrank resentfully.
“If you make reason your guide,” he said, “God help you, Philander Knox. And—”
“Tear it up—tear it up and save Trenchard the trouble, Pinhey. Be guided by a man who’s moved in a larger world than yourself.”
“A larger and a wickeder world, if you can talk like that about sin,” answered Nicholas, who had grown pinker than his paper.
“I’m not talking about sin. I’d as soon talk about sin to a bluebottle as you. You’re one of the born good sort, you are, and the funny thing is that you’ve worked in the same business with Kellock all these years and years and don’t know he’s the same order of creation as yourself. Why, my dear man, he might be your son!”
“This is too much and I won’t stand it,” answered Mr. Pinhey. “I ask you to recall that, Knox; or I won’t know you from this hour forward.”
“Don’t be fussy. We’re both well past our half century and can air our opinions without getting cross. I mean that Kellock is a serious-minded chap with a strong character and steadfast opinions. He’s just as anxious to leave the world better than he found it as you are. And he means to do so; and very likely, if he’s not too deadly in earnest and too narrow in his virtues, he may. You must grant him his good character, Pinhey, and then ask yourself whether a man with his past would have done this without what seemed good and high reasons. I’m not saying he was right for a minute; but I’m saying he weighed it in all its bearings and from his mistaken and inexperienced point of view made this big error.”
“And aren’t we here to show him his error?”
“No, we can’t show it to him. You wouldn’t convince him if you talked for a month from your point of view. Sit tight—that’s all you’ve got to do. I believe he’s made a big mistake and I believe he’ll see it for himself before he’s six months older. But let his own nature work and don’t say more till you know more. What looks like wickedness to one man’s eye may seem goodness to another man’s.”
Mr. Pinhey had now grown calm.