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Book, page 131 / 152 voice broke the silence. "How much of your affecting tale is true, Mr. Armstrong?" The voice belonged to Mrs. Cathcart. "I object to the question," said I. "I don't want to know. Suppose, Mrs. Cathcart, I were to put this story-club, members, stories, and all, into a book, how would any one like to have her real existence questioned? It would at least imply that I had made a very bad portrait of that one." The lady cast rather a frightened look at me, which I confess I was not sorry to see. But the curate interposed. "What frightful sophistry, Mr. Smith!" Then turning to Mrs. Cathcart, he continued: "I have not the slightest objection to answer your question, Mrs. Cathcart; and if our friend Mr. Smith does not want to hear the answer, I will wait till he stops his ears." He glanced to me, his black eyes twinkling with fun. I saw that it was all he could do to keep from winking; but he did. "Oh no," I answered; "I will share what is going." "Well, then, the fool is a real character, in every point. But I learned after I had written the sketch, that I had made one mistake. He was in reality about seventeen, when he was found on the hill. The bell is a real character too. Elsie is a creature of my own. So of course are the brother and the dog." "I don't know whether to be glad or sorry that there was no Elsie," said his wife. "But did you know the fool yourself?" "Perfectly well, and had a great respect for him. When a little boy, I was quite proud of the way he behaved to me. He occasionally visited the general persecution of the boys, upon any boy he chanced to meet on the road; but as often as I met him, he walked quietly past me,
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