"But Jaff Chayne, when he gets a shock, is the sort of fellow that goes into the middle of a wilderness and roars.

Yet here he is in London and won't be persuaded to leave it." "What do you mean ?" I asked.
"We wanted to send him out to Persia, and he refused to go.

We had to send young Brodie instead, who won't do the work half as well." "All this is news to me," said I.
"And it was a first-class business with armed escorts, caravans, wild tribes--a matter of great danger and subtle politics--railways, finance--the whole hang of the international situation and internal conditions--a big scoop--everything that usually is butter and honey to Jaff Chayne--an ideal job for him in every way.

But no.

He was fed up with scalliwagging all over the place.