“You are from Redding, of course,” said he. “My sister is very enthusiastic about the place. You are in business there?”
Orde replied briefly, but, forced by the direct, cold, and polite cross-questioning of his companion, he gave the latter a succinct idea of the sort of operations in which he was interested.
“And you,” he said at last; “I suppose you're either a broker or lawyer; most men are down here.”
“I am neither one nor the other,” stated Gerald. “I am possessed of a sufficient income from a legacy to make business unnecessary.”
“I don't believe I'd care to—be idle,” said Orde vaguely.
“There is plenty to occupy one's time,” replied Gerald. “I have my clubs, my gymnasium, my horse, and my friends.”
“Isn't there anything that particularly attracts you?” asked Orde.
The young man's languid eyes grew thoughtful, and he puffed more strongly on his cigarette.
“I should like,” said he slowly, at last, “to enter the navy.”
“Why don't you?” asked Orde bluntly.