"No" she admitted, "but then I am sure it is properly done."
"Is that why papa dusts the tables in the bank?"
A pause followed during which it was the mother's turn to stand the boy's intense scrutiny.
"No," she said at last. "He does it because it is a part of his work, and a shame it is that he has to. Scrub-women come in and do the rest of the cleaning, but they are not trusted with the desks, and so the attendants have to take turns doing that part of it. That's why your father has to leave so very early in the morning."
Mother and son lapsed into silence once more. It was broken by another question from the boy.
"Why couldn't I take some stamps that had been thrown away?"
"Had your father said anything about it before you took them?"
"He told me not to touch anything."
"Then you couldn't because he had told you to leave things alone. He is so careful in all such matters. Sometimes he goes a little too far, perhaps, but you can be sure that he means right. Other people want the stamps, and there is a lot of gossip and envy about everything, and he is too proud to be dragged into that sort of thing. It is always better, Keith, to leave alone what you know is not your own. Honesty endures beyond all else."
Keith made no direct response, but sprang one more irrelevant question: