Ralph meditated with a mild smile. “I suppose that if one has no conscience one has no shame.”
“Well, you’ve got plenty of assurance,” Henrietta declared. “Do you consider it right to give up your country?”
“Ah, one doesn’t give up one’s country any more than one gives up one’s grandmother. They’re both antecedent to choice—elements of one’s composition that are not to be eliminated.”
“I suppose that means that you’ve tried and been worsted. What do they think of you over here?”
“They delight in me.”
“That’s because you truckle to them.”
“Ah, set it down a little to my natural charm!” Ralph sighed.
“I don’t know anything about your natural charm. If you’ve got any charm it’s quite unnatural. It’s wholly acquired—or at least you’ve tried hard to acquire it, living over here. I don’t say you’ve succeeded. It’s a charm that I don’t appreciate, anyway. Make yourself useful in some way, and then we’ll talk about it.” “Well, now, tell me what I shall do,” said Ralph.
“Go right home, to begin with.”
“Yes, I see. And then?”