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He could not imagine why they both burst into laughter,
Hayward uproariously, and Weeks with a funny chuckle.
‘And in England dissenters aren’t gentlemen, are they?’
asked Weeks.
‘Well, if you ask me point-blank, they’re not,’ replied Phil-
ip rather crossly.
He hated being laughed at, and they laughed again.
‘And will you tell me what a gentleman is?’ asked Weeks.
‘Oh, I don’t know; everyone knows what it is.’
‘Are you a gentleman?’
No doubt had ever crossed Philip’s mind on the subject,
but he knew it was not a thing to state of oneself.
‘If a man tells you he’s a gentleman you can bet your boots
he isn’t,’ he retorted.
‘Am I a gentleman?’
Philip’s truthfulness made it difficult for him to answer,
but he was naturally polite.
‘Oh, well, you’re different,’ he said. ‘You’re American, aren’t
you?’
‘I suppose we may take it that only Englishmen are gentle-
men,’ said Weeks gravely.
Philip did not contradict him.
‘Couldn’t you give me a few more particulars?’ asked
Weeks.
Philip reddened, but, growing angry, did not care if he
made himself ridiculous.
‘I can give you plenty’ He remembered his uncle’s saying
that it took three generations to make a gentleman: it was a
companion proverb to the silk purse and the sow’s ear. ‘First

1 0 Of Human Bondage