The Club of Queer Trades by G. K. (Gilbert Keith) Chesterton
page 51 of 178 (28%)
page 51 of 178 (28%)
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Mr Secretary Drummond had a pale face and red hair; but at this his face became suddenly as red as his moustache. "I am not a fair judge of him," he said. "Why not?" asked Grant. "Because I hate him like hell," said the other, after a long pause and violently. Neither Grant nor I needed to ask the reason; his glances towards Miss Beaumont and the stranger were sufficiently illuminating. Grant said quietly: "But before--before you came to hate him, what did you really think of him?" "I am in a terrible difficulty," said the young man, and his voice told us, like a clear bell, that he was an honest man. "If I spoke about him as I feel about him now, I could not trust myself. And I should like to be able to say that when I first saw him I thought he was charming. But again, the fact is I didn't. I hate him, that is my private affair. But I also disapprove of him--really I do believe I disapprove of him quite apart from my private feelings. When first he came, I admit he was much quieter, but I did not like, so to speak, the moral swell of him. Then that jolly old Sir Walter Cholmondeliegh got introduced to us, and this fellow, with his cheap-jack wit, began to score off the old man in the way he does now. Then I felt that he must be a bad lot; it must be bad to |
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