You make Captain Kidd look like a preliminary three-round bout.
My boy, we'll be the greatest combination, you and I, that the City has
ever seen. Shake hands.'
For a moment Clarence hesitated. Then his better nature prevailed, and
he spoke.
'Mr Rackstraw,' he said, 'I cannot deceive you.'
'That won't matter,' said the enthusiastic old man. 'I bet you'll be
able to deceive everybody else. I see it in your eye. My boy, we'll be
the greatest--'
'My name is not Jones.'
'Nor is mine. What does that matter?'
'My name is Tresillian. The Hon. Tresillian. I am the younger son of
the Earl of Runnymede. To a man of your political views--'
'Nonsense, nonsense,' said Mr Rackstraw. 'What are political views
compared with the chance of getting a goal-keeper like you into the
family? I remember Isabel saying something to me about you, but I
didn't know who you were then.'
'I am a preposterous excrescence on the social cosmos,' said Clarence,
eyeing him doubtfully.
'Then I'll be one too,' cried Mr Rackstraw. 'I own I've set my face
against it hitherto, but circumstances alter cases. I'll ring up the
Prime Minister on the phone tomorrow, and buy a title myself.'
Clarence's last scruple was removed. Silently he gripped the old man's
hand, outstretched to meet his.
Little remains to be said, but I am going to say it, if it snows.
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