"But a man in my position--?"

"It's a ridiculous position. You may try to escape being
ridiculous. You won't succeed."

It seemed to Benham for a moment as though Prothero had got to the
bottom of the question, and then he perceived that he had only got
to the bottom of himself. Benham was pacing the floor.

He turned at the open window, held out a long forefinger, and
uttered his countervailing faith.

"Even if he is ridiculous, Prothero, a man may still be an
aristocrat. A man may anyhow be as much of an aristocrat as he can
be."

Prothero reflected. "No," he said, "it sounds all right, but it's
wrong. I hate all these advantages and differences and
distinctions. A man's a man. What you say sounds well, but it's
the beginning of pretension, of pride--"

He stopped short.

"Better, pride than dishonour," said Benham, "better the pretentious
life than the sordid life. What else is there?"

"A life isn't necessarily sordid because it isn't pretentious," said
Prothero, his voice betraying a defensive disposition.