"If I asked dad to let you stay, don't you think he would?"
"Perhaps; but I wouldn't want to."
"Oh, if you want to go away, all right," I grumbled.
"I meant that I wouldn't care to remain just because of a whim of yours. If
I believed that by staying I could accomplish something; if I thought that
you wanted me to stay, knowing that it meant hard study--much harder than
any you've been doing--and cheerful obedience; in short, Raymond, if I knew
that I could honestly earn my salary, I'd stay."
He took out his pipe and filled it. I shoved the earth back into the hole
in the turf. Nobody said anything for a while.
"I don't mind study--much," I said presently.
"It hasn't been hard yet," he answered.
"And I don't mind doing what you tell me to. You're--you're not like
Simpkins, Browning, and Gabbett."
"I haven't pulled on the curb yet," he said.