‘Just the same as ever, Lumley, I see, living in a muddle of unexamined ideas. What you would call social climbing, I, from perhaps a more impartial standpoint, would describe as,’ and so he went on for three or four minutes, until he had talked himself back into poise and self-confidence. ‘And now, what about this car they’re supposed to be sending for me?’

‘Well, there is a Daimler outside,’ said Charles. ‘Perhaps you ought to go and get into that.’

They went out. Hutchins looked doubtfully at the car.

‘It seems the only one, certainly, but I hesitate to get in without anyone here to ask. And yet, damn it,’ he went on, irritated, ‘how do they expect me to get there without a car?’

‘Tell you what,’ said Charles. ‘You get in and I’ll drive the thing myself. That’ll get you there, anyway.’

‘You’ll drive? What on earth do you mean?’

For answer Charles held the door open for him. When Hutchins still did not understand, he took his peaked cap from his pocket and, putting it on, stood grotesquely at the salute.

‘You’ve started a taxi firm, then?’ asked Hutchins.

‘Keep guessing and you’ll get the answer in less than three. Yes, as one parasite to another, I’ll confide. I’m the chauffeur.’

Hutchins was startled out of his new urbanity. The old Black Country expression and manner came back with a rush.

‘Well, Lumley, I’m sorry you’re down on your luck. I should have thought you could have got a better job than this, though, I must say. Of course, I could see years ago that you hadn’t got a real grip on things. But I didn’t think you would have come down to this.’

‘What do you mean, come down?’

‘I could give you a recommendation that would probably get you a job in a prep. school. That would be a start, at least.’

‘Listen, George,’ Charles said wearily. ‘Never mind the missionary zeal. I don’t want honest work. I’m like you, I prefer to be a parasite. A louse on the scalp of society.’

‘I don’t see the comparison, I must say,’ said Hutchins stiffly.

‘What could be plainer? I drive the great man’s car. You try to tinker with the brain-box of his son. The only effective differ­ence between us is that my work is obviously of some practical use, whereas you’ll have nothing to show for it. I’ve met the boy. He’s perfectly decent, but ten of you working in relays wouldn’t give him any academic intelligence. He’s a mechanic.’

‘That’s as may be. And in any case, Lumley, if you have taken a job as chauffeur, and seem to like it so much, I shall have to remind you, when you get too obstreperous, to behave like a chauffeur.’