"Thanks—thanks" (his voice seemed to choke him)—"it's awfully good and—and generous of you. But I can't."
"Why not?"
"I've about fifteen reasons. One's enough. I don't like the business, and I won't have anything to do with it."
"You—don't—like—the business?" said Isaac, with the air of considering an entirely new proposition.
"No. I don't like it."
"I am going to raise the tone of the business. That's wot I want you for. To raise the tone of the business."
"I should have to raise the tone of the British public first."
"Well—an intelligent bookseller has a good deal of influence with customers; and you with your reputation, there's nothing you couldn't do. You could make the business anything you chose. In a few years we should be at the very head of the trade. I don't deny that the house has been going down. There's been considerable depression. Still, I should be in a very different position now, Keith, if you hadn't left me. And in the second-hand department—your department—there are still enormous—enormous—profits to be made."
"That's precisely why I object to my department, as you call it. I don't approve of those enormous profits."
"Now look 'ere. Let's have a quiet talk. We never have 'ad, for you were always so violent. If you'd stated your objections to me in a quiet reasonable manner, there'd never have been any misunderstanding. Supposing you explain why you object to those profits."