Isaac caressed his beard gently, and looked at Keith with a gaze so clear that it might have passed for pure. He was saying to himself, as he had said once before, "There's a woman in it."
"Don't you see," Keith broke out, "the atrocious position that I'm in? I promised Miss Harden that we'd do our best for her, and now we're taking advantage of the situation to drive an iniquitous bargain with her."
As Keith made this powerful statement Isaac smiled, puzzled and indulgent, as at some play of diverting but incomprehensible humour. In fact, he never could clearly distinguish between Keith's sense of humour and his sense of honour; both seemed equally removed from the safe, intelligible methods of ordinary men. He wasn't sure but what there was something fine in it, something in keeping with the intellectual extravagance that distinguished his son from other people's sons. There were moments when it amused and interested him, but he did not care to have it obtruded on him in business hours.
"I'm driving no bargain with the lady at all. The books aren't hers, they're Pilkington's. I'm dealing with him."
"And you refuse to consider her interests?"
"How can you say so when I'm paying two hundred more than I need do, on her account alone? You must explain that clearly to her."
"Not I. You can explain it yourself. To me, you see, the whole thing's simply a colossal fraud. I won't have anything to do with it."
"You 'aven't anything to do with it. I made the bargain, and I keep to it."
"Very well, then, you must choose between your bargain and me."
"Wot do you mean, choose between my bargain and you?"