“Yours is a fair-weather philosophy.”
“It’s brought me through a good many hours of foul weather. You know something about business, though your father—luckily for you—knows more. You know I’ve not built up my business without nearly running on rocks sometimes. Last year it was almost a toss-up whether I came a colossal smash or not.”
“Last year!”
“Last year.”
“But last year——”
“Oh, yes,” West broke in, “I know what you’re going to say. Last year I gave ten thousand pounds to a Royal charity fund. People said I did it to buy a knighthood. I did it to set my credit above suspicion. It saved me.”
“I’ve never heard you talk about business before.”
“Very likely not. I don’t often talk ‘shop.’ Does it bore you?”
“No, I like hearing men talk shop.”
“I wish I had been married then,” West said, lying back on the sofa and watching the smoke from his cigar as it drifted across to the fire. “A business man ought to have a home that keeps him—so to speak—out of his office.”