This was very much my own opinion. If I were a member of the government—I rather think I actually was, a few weeks later—Babberly would merely stimulate me.
“You can tell your Government from me—” said Conroy.
“It’s not my Government.”
“Well tell that Government from me, that when I want a title I’ll put down the full market price. At present I’m not taking any.”
Next day Conroy went off with Crossan in his motor car. He did not come back. I got a telegram from him later in the afternoon asking me to forward his luggage to Belfast. I forget the excuse he made for treating me in this very free and easy way; but there was an excuse, I know, probably quite a long one, for the telegram filled three sheets of the paper which the post-office uses for these messages.
Conroy’s sudden departure was a bitter sorrow and disappointment to Godfrey. He came up to dinner that night with three new pearl studs in the front of his shirt.
“What I can’t understand,” he said, “is why a man like Conroy should spend his time with your upper servants; people like Crossan, whom I shouldn’t dream of shaking hands with.”
“I’m afraid,” I said, “that he’s not going to give you that job you hoped for.”
“He may,” said Godfrey. “I think he liked me right enough. If only he could be got to believe that Power is robbing him right and left.”
“But is he?”