because generally I do not take an interest in persons until I know a
good deal about them.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

The man did not immediately answer, but began searching for something in
one of the pockets of his coat. The little awkwardness which I had first
noticed, now became more apparent. He appeared to be looking for his
pockets rather than for what might be in one of them. He was conscious
of his ungainliness and reddened a little as he fumbled on the inside
and outside of his coat.

"I pray you pardon me," he said, "but I will bring before you instantly
the matter of my business."

And so saying, he got his hand into a breast pocket and drew out a
little packet. There was a certain intonation of his voice which, at
first made me think that he was not an American, but in that intonation
there was really nothing foreign. He was certainly a stranger, he might
be from the backwoods, and both his manner and speech appeared odd to
me; but soon I had no doubt about his being my countryman. In fact,
there was something in his general appearance which seemed to me to be
distinctively American.

"I came to you, sir," he said, "to ask if you would have the goodness to
purchase one or more of these tickets?" And he held out to me a card
entitling one person to admission to a séance to be given by a party of
spiritualists in one of the public buildings of the town.

A feeling of anger arose within me. I was chagrined to think that I had