"Or, for that matter, good mothers of philosophers," said Herbert.
"That's rather a hard saying, isn't it?" said the other man.
"No," said his wife; "it's as transparent as air."
"London air in November?" suggested her husband.
"He means that there's no such thing."
"As air in London in November? I'm with him there."
"He means that there's no such thing as a good philosopher."
"Then I hope he has an appetite for dinner. The man without philosophy usually has."