"Isn't it thoroughfare, then?"

"Oh yes! the cigar's all right. I haven't smoked such a cigar for more
than ten years; and that's the reason."

"I wish I had known you seven years, Mr. Armstrong."

"You have known me a hundred and seven."

"Then I have a right to--"

"Poke my fire as much as you please."

And as Mr. Armstrong said so, he poked his own chest, to signify the
symbolism of his words.

"Then I should like to know something of your early history--something
to account for the fact that a man like you, at your time of life, is
only a curate."

"I can do all that, and account for the pain your cigar gives me, in one
and the same story."

I sat full of expectation.

"You won't find me long-winded, I hope."

"No fear of that. Begin directly. I adjure you by our friendship of a
hundred years."