There has evidently been some
misapprehension, but for the life of me, without further explanation,
I am as much in a fog as I was on my way coming here, for it is
getting a little thick outside.'
Macpherson certainly was conducting himself with great discretion, and
presented, quite unconsciously, a much more diplomatic figure than my
friend, Spenser Hale, sitting stiffly opposite me. His tone was one of
mild expostulation, mitigated by the intimation that all
misunderstanding speedily would be cleared away. To outward view he
offered a perfect picture of innocence, neither protesting too much
nor too little. I had, however, another surprise in store for him, a
trump card, as it were, and I played it down on the table.
'There!' I cried with vim, 'have you ever seen that sheet before?'
He glanced at it without offering to take it in his hand.
'Oh, yes,' he said, 'that has been abstracted from our file. It is
what I call my visiting list.'
'Come, come, sir,' I cried sternly, 'you refuse to confess, but I warn
you we know all about it. You never heard of Dr. Willoughby, I
suppose?'
'Yes, he is the author of the silly pamphlet on Christian Science.'
'You are in the right, Mr. Macpherson; on Christian Science and
Absent-Mindedness.
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