Edmund waited when the bishop and Captain Welfare went to their rooms.
“Why on earth didn’t you put the bishop off?” he asked a little irritably.
“I’ve just heard Parminter explaining to you. Really it’s just as he said.”
“That’s all very well. But you can see for yourself. Welfare is a very good partner for me to have. He’s all right on board ship. But one doesn’t exactly want to brandish him in the faces of one’s friends.”
“I think I shall like him. And if he’ll only tell us about himself and his life, I’m sure he’ll be interesting.”
“Are you going to charge the bishop something extra for seeing him fed?”
“My dear Edmund, when you know Parminter better, you’ll be as fond of him as I am. You will understand that his interest in both of us is a really brotherly feeling.”
“Well, I wish he’d get it fixed in his head that we’re traders, fruit-merchants, out for a profit, and not go gassing about empire-building and cant.”
I saw now what was causing Edmund’s irritability. It was the consciousness, or at least the fear of becoming déclassé.
“It’s not cant with Parminter,” I said. “He’s tremendously keen on meeting men out of the beaten track; men who live in an original way. And yours is an original way. I think he’s got an idea that this old country has got to be jerked out of its ruts by original men. Although he’s a bishop he has sort of lost faith in respectability.”