He was right, I'm 'most generally in."
This statement was made quietly, deliberately and with no trace of
resentment. Having made it, the speaker began picking up the vanes
and sailors he had spilled when he proffered his visitor the chair.
Major Grover colored, and frowned.
"Do you mean to tell me," he demanded, "that that fellow sent me
over here because--because--"
"Because I'm town crank? Ye-es, that's what I mean."
"Indeed! That is his idea of a joke, is it?"
"Seems to be. He's an awful comical critter, Phin Babbitt is--in
his own way."
"Well, it's not my way. He sends me over here to make an ass of
myself and insult you--"
"Now, now, Major, excuse me. Phin didn't have any idea that you'd
insult me. You see," with the fleeting smile, "he wouldn't believe
anybody could do that."
Grover turned sharply to the door. Mr. Winslow spoke his name.
"Er--Major Grover," he said, gently, "I wouldn't."
The major paused. "Wouldn't what?" he demanded.
"Go over there and tell Phin and the rest what you think of 'em.
If 'twould do 'em any good I'd say, 'For mercy sakes, go!' But
'twouldn't; they wouldn't believe it."
Grover's lips tightened.
"Telling it might do ME some good," he observed, significantly.
"Yes, I know. But maybe we might get the same good or more in a
different way. .
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