"Not a bit, and I know nothing about heads—in the sense you mean. I've grown a tail if you will; I'm the merman wandering free. It's the jolliest of trades!"
Before they had gone many steps further Nick Dormer stopped short with a question. "I say, my dear fellow, do you mind mentioning to me whether you're the greatest humbug and charlatan on earth, or a genuine intelligence, one that has sifted things for itself?"
"I do lead your poor British wit a dance—I'm so sorry," Nash replied benignly. "But I'm very sincere. And I have tried to straighten out things a bit for myself."
"Then why do you give people such a handle?"
"Such a handle?"
"For thinking you're an—for thinking you're a mere farceur."
"I daresay it's my manner: they're so unused to any sort of candour."
"Well then why don't you try another?" Nick asked.
"One has the manner that one can, and mine moreover's a part of my little system."
"Ah if you make so much of your little system you're no better than any one else," Nick returned as they went on.