"At Memphis." "One of these days," I returned, with equal solemnity, "I hope for the privilege of hearing some of your reminiscences.

They would no doubt be interesting." On the way back Lola thanked me for pretending to take the little man seriously, and not laughing at him.
"If I hadn't," said I, "he would have stuck his knife into me." She shook her head.

"You did it naturally.

I was watching you.

It is because you are a generous-hearted gentleman." Said I: "If you talk like that I'll get out and walk." And, indeed, what right had she to characterise the moral condition of my heart?
I asked her.