"Captain Bowers is very fond of his pipe," he said, after they had walked
a little way in silence.
Miss Drewitt assented. "Nasty things," she said, calmly.
"So they are," said Mr. Tredgold.
"But you smoke," said the girl.
Mr. Tredgold sighed. "I have often thought of giving it up," he said,
softly, "and then I was afraid that it would look rather presumptuous."
"Presumptuous?" repeated Miss Drewitt.
"So many better and wiser men than myself smoke," exclaimed Mr.
Tredgold, "including even bishops. If it is good enough for them, it
ought to be good enough for me; that's the way I look at it. Who am I
that I should be too proud to smoke? Who am I that I should try and set
my poor ideas above those of my superiors? Do you see my point of view?"
Miss Drewitt made no reply.
"Of course, it is a thing that grows on one," continued Mr. Tredgold,
with the air of making a concession. "It is the first smoke that does
the mischief; it is a fatal precedent. Unless, perhaps--How pretty that
field is over there."
Miss Drewitt looked in the direction indicated. "Very nice," she said,
briefly. "But what were you going to say?"
Mr. Tredgold made an elaborate attempt to appear confused.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143