"Yes."
"Ah," his mother sighed, something seemed to touch a sensitive chord. "You know Phillip is going out to India?"
"Yes. Plantation, isn't it?"
"Yes, in a very nice part of the country, I believe."
"What's he going to get?"
"Twenty pounds a month," his father answered.
"That isn't much for a man twenty-four years old, is it? Fitters get that out there."
"My dear boy!" His mother was grieved.
"What's the matter, mater?"
"You have such a sordid way of looking at things."