"Fat lot of information you'll get," was the gracious reply.
"Very well, then," said Philip cheerfully. "I won't enquire: I'll assume. Having assumed that everything I meant to ask about is as I think it is, I'll tell you something. It's this: you are a pretty good chap."
Brand's gloomy eyes turned upon Philip suspiciously.
"What do you mean?" he snarled.
"I mean this. You have done a pretty fine thing. If the information interests you, I may tell you that you have taught me a lesson; but that's beside the point. Last Friday you were in a comfortable berth, doing well, and rising rapidly. To-day you are a bath-steward, without any status or prospects. Why?"
"Because I'm a blasted fool," replied Brand.
"No, I don't think so," continued Philip, "I prefer to look at it differently. You have sacrificed everything, and staked your whole future—on what? On an Idea—a single Idea. I call that a pretty fine thing."
"What Idea?" snapped Brand.
"A very pretty little Idea," said Philip. "She is now sleeping peacefully two decks below this."
Brand sprang to his feet, his eyes blazing.