“I thought you knew me better than that.”
“I didn’t, you see. But let the dead past bury its dead. Let us give our attention to the present and to the future, and I shall begin by asking if you have any suspicion that you are a fool?”
“A most diplomatic and soothing beginning, Mr. Sartwell. However, I suppose we are all more or less tinged with folly, so we won’t quarrel about terms; but we seem to see the defects of others rather clearer than we see our own.”
“That is undoubtedly true. It strikes me, then, that you are wasting your life, and I would like to convince you of that before it is too late.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. I want an assistant manager. He must be a man of ability and a man I can trust. I am getting on in years, and will soon stand aside. My assistant, if he has the right stuff in him, will take my place, and the future will belong to him. I offer you the position.”
“I cannot accept it.”
“Why?”
“Because I have devoted my life to the men.”
“But you will have an opportunity of doing more for the men in that position than you can possibly do for them in your present office, where they grudgingly pay you barely enough to keep body and soul together.”