What he would have liked to say had he been able to work out his thought to the end was: "I see, I see.

Lash them up then, lead them on, keep them going: some of it can't help, some time, coming _our_ way." Yet he was troubled by the suspicion of subtleties on his companion's part that spoiled the straight view.

He couldn't understand people's hating what they liked or liking what they hated; above all it hurt him somewhere--for he had his private delicacies--to see anything _but_ money made out of his betters.

To be too enquiring, or in any other way too free, at the expense of the gentry was vaguely wrong; the only thing that was distinctly right was to be prosperous at any price.

Wasn't it just because they were up there aloft that they were lucrative?
He concluded at any rate by saying to his young friend: "If it's improper for you to remain at Cocker's, then that falls in exactly with the other reasons I've put before you for your removal." "Improper ?"--her smile became a prolonged boldness.