He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. Well, I was all for dragging in Bow Street there and then, and getting the pair of those fraudsters thrown in gaol. When he faced Spurlock, the granite was cracked and rived; never had Spurlock seen such dumb agony in human eyes. “I feel shabby and disgraced. In addition to my public salary I have a certain private property and further expectations through my aunt, so that I can offer you a life of wide and generous refinement, travel, books, discussion, and easy relations with a circle of clever and brilliant and thoughtful people with whom my literary work has brought me into contact, and of which, seeing me only as you have done alone in Morningside Park, you can have no idea. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to.
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