We've not collected the subscription yet. You prefer to call it subscription, don't you! Honest John Driver has at present no more intention of subscribing towards the removal of his friend than he has of flying. We've got a double job, you may take my word for it—we've got to remove Pudleigh and scare the subscription out of John Driver."
"I expect you're right. These commercial men have no sense of decency. But didn't Driver kick at the idea of removal?"
"Not a kick. He was on to it like a knife. But what about Pudleigh? Have you found out his habits?"
I ran through Pudleigh's dossier as I had received it from Gregson. But when I came to the story of his flirtations, Chelubai's sense of propriety, which is so much keener in the inhabitants of the Great Republic than in us, was touched on the raw. He flushed with honest indignation, and broke in:
"This is disgraceful! I cannot stand immorality in a business man. It frets me every time."
"But there's no immorality. Gregson assured me that they were mere flirtations."
"It is immoral," said Chelubai firmly. "Any trifling with the affections of a woman is an attack on the sanctity of the home!"
"I didn't know you felt so strongly about it."
