"Nay, nay!" said Falconer, stopping with a gesture a general rising
from the table. "There is some mistake here. I will talk with the
gentleman alone. After you, sir." And, having approached me, he waited
with great civility, for me to precede him out of the door. I accepted
promptly, being in no mood to waste time in a contest of politeness.
"Now, lad, what in the name of heaven--" he began, in the most gentle,
indulgent manner, as we stood alone in the passage.
"For God's sake," I blurted irritably, "be like your countrymen in
there: be sneering, resentful, supercilious! Don't be so cursed
amiable--don't make it so hard for me to do this!"
"I supercilious! And to thee, lad!" he replied, with a reproachful
smile.
"Show your inward self, then. I know how selfish you are, how
unscrupulous! You like people for their good company, and their
admiration of you, their attachment to you. But you would trample over
any one, without a qualm, to get at your own pleasure or enrichment,
or to gratify your vanity."
He meditated for a moment upon my words. Then he said, good-naturedly:
"Why, you hit me off to perfection, I think. And yet, my liking for
some people is real, too. I would do much for those I like--if it cost
not too many pains, and required no sacrifice of pleasure. For you,
indeed, I would do a great deal, upon my honour!"
"Then do this," quoth I, fighting against the ingratiating charm he
exercised.
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