He resumed his seat as he asked the question. Captain Zelotes nodded.
“If you don't mind,” he answered. “You see, you misunderstood me, Mr. Fosdick. I didn't mean any more than what I said when I asked you what real objection there was, in your opinion to Albert's marryin' your—er—Madeline, that's her name, I believe. Seems to me the way for us to get to an understandin'—you and I—is to find out just how the situation looks to each of us. When we've found out that, we'll know how nigh we come to agreein' or disagreein' and can act accordin'. Sounds reasonable, don't it?”
Fosdick nodded in his turn. “Perfectly,” he admitted. “Well, ask your questions, and I'll answer them. After that perhaps I'll ask some myself. Go ahead.”
“I have gone ahead. I've asked one already.”
“Yes, but it is such a general question. There may be so many objections.”
“I see. All right, then I'll ask some: What do the lawyers call 'em?—Atlantic? Pacific? I've got it—I'll ask some specific questions. Here's one. Do you object to Al personally? To his character?”
“Not at all. We know nothing about his character. Very likely he may be a young saint.”
“Well, he ain't, so we'll let that slide. He's a good boy, though, so far as I've ever been able to find out. Is it his looks? You've never seen him, but your wife has. Don't she like his looks?”
“She hasn't mentioned his looks to me.”
“Is it his money? He hasn't got any of his own.”