JAMES. His future, naturally. I have decided that the best thing he
can do is to come into the business at once.

EMILY. Are you really going to talk it over with him, James, or are
you just going to tell him that he _must_ come?

JAMES (surprised). What do you mean? What's the difference?
Naturally we shall talk it over first, and--er--naturally he'll
fall in with my wishes.

EMILY. I suppose he can hardly help himself, poor boy.

JAMES. Not until he's twenty-five, anyhow. When he's twenty-five he
can have his own money and do what he likes with it.

EMILY (timidly). But I think you ought to consult him at little,
dear. After all, he _has_ been fighting for us.

JAMES (with his back to the fire). Now that's the sort of silly
sentiment that there's been much too much of. I object to it
strongly. I don't want to boast, but I think I may claim to have
done my share. I gave up my nephew to my country, and I--er--
suffered from the shortage of potatoes to an extent that you
probably didn't realize. Indeed, if it hadn't been for your
fortunate discovery about that time that you didn't really like
potatoes, I don't know how we should have carried on. And, as I
think I've told you before, the excess-profits tax seemed to me a
singularly stupid piece of legislation--but I paid it. And I don't
go boasting about how much I paid.