“And what is a man?” said Margaret.
“He ain’t an old woman, anyway,” said Mr. Iles.
“I don’t want to know what he isn’t. I want to know what he is. What is a man?”
“A felly what can do his piece, and stick it out. A man who won’t hang back, or lie up, or give you no lip.”
“You would like the world composed of such men?”
“B’gee I would. You’re right.”
“And you, Stukeley?”
“I’d like my dinner in peace, without a lot of cross-examination. Talk about beauty with Perrin there. He likes to hear you. I don’t.”
“No,” said Perrin. “No, Stukeley. I shouldn’t think you ever liked to hear of anything noble.”
“Noble. Good Lord. I hope I spend my time better. You two seem to think because you read a few half-tipped writers like yourselves, you’re free to judge everybody else.”