"To settle down," repeated George, with some firmness. "If you are ever going to do anything with your life, it's quite time you started. You can't go wandering about the world in this aimless fashion for ever."
"But it isn't aimless, George," I protested. "I always have an excellent reason for going anywhere."
"And may I ask what your 'excellent reason' was for spending the whole of last year in the wilds of Kashmir?"
"I wanted to shoot a snow leopard," I said.
George shrugged his shoulders.
"Exactly what I mean. A year of your life thrown away on a frivolous piece of sport."
"Frivolous!" I echoed. "There's devilish little frivolity about shooting a snow leopard. You try it."
"Thank you," said George coldly. "I have something better to do with my time."
It was plain that he was getting a little huffy, and my conscience pricked me. With all his seriousness George is an excellent fellow.
"Look here, old son," I said. "Politics are all very well for you—you've got a turn for that sort of thing—but what on earth use should I be? I can't talk for nuts, and know rather less about the game than this cigar."