"Are you putting the question to me?"
"I wasn't—but I will!"
"Oh, I should want a lot more: to begin with, a definite object."
"Ah, you're a girl. My opinion of men with definite objects is that they are generally bores."
"But the country would not get on without them, would it?"
"Don't believe such nonsense, puss. Who's the greater man: Asquith or Foster? Would you sooner be Lloyd George or Bobs? Who's doing more for England—the man who helps to beat the Australians, or the lawyers who put threepence on the income tax? You ask the average man, and see what he says."
"The average man has not much brains; he is the servant in the house of intellect. I should never consult him about anything."
"Puss, I know what you're thinking about—it's that popgun man."
"Rather inconsequent, isn't it? You wouldn't average Mr. Faber?"
"No, I suppose he's clever enough. He makes money. Old Baker, our head at school, always used to say that the faculty of making money was one of the most contemptible. But it's useful, I admit."