“Practically everything. It is one of my favourite hobbies.”
“Can you make soup?”
“Soup?”
“Soup,” said Mr. Mifflin firmly.
Jimmy raised his eyebrows.
“Does an architect make bricks?” he said. “I leave the rough, preliminary work to my corps of assistants. They make my soup.”
“You mustn’t think Jimmy’s one of your common cracksmen,” said Sutton. “He’s at the top of his profession. That’s how he made his money. I never did believe that legacy story.”
“Jimmy,” said Mr. Mifflin, “couldn’t crack a child’s money-box. Jimmy couldn’t open a sardine-tin.” Jimmy shrugged his shoulders.
“What’ll you bet?” he said again. “Come on, Arthur; you’re earning a very good salary. What’ll you bet?”
“Make it a dinner for all present,” suggested Raikes, a canny person who believed in turning the wayside happenings of life, when possible, to his personal profit.