“I’m inclined to agree with you,” said Bobbie regretfully. “And poor old Gordon has faults.”
“The faults of age,” said Diana. “He’s the sort of man who has been forty-five ever since he was born; but, thank God, he’s not flighty!” she added piously.
The sweeper nodded in agreement, but his faint smile was to vanish.
“Don’t put any man on a pedestal, my dear,” said Bobbie in the paternal manner.
“Sneak!” said Gordon fiercely but inaudibly.
“The best of men make mistakes,” the traitor brother continued. “His very innocence is a disadvantage. I could well imagine that a woman with the right line of talk could twist him round her little finger!”
She dissented. Diana had her own views, and they were mainly unbendable.
“If I were his wife I should trust Gordon, Bobbie,” she said seriously. “He’s the very soul of honour. Whatever you say of Gordon, you’ve got to admit he’s that. He wouldn’t do anything undignified or vulgar. I could imagine many things, but I could not imagine Gordon going to Ostend, even in a mood of theosophical ecstasy, without a chaperone.”
Bobbie shifted uneasily. He was by nature honest, in spite of his being a tea-broker. There were certain fundamentals in his code with which he could not dispense, even to shield Gordon.
“N-no, perhaps not,” he said.