I maintained," he added solemnly after a puff or two, "that his heart was in the right place.

I'm a broken-down old crock, no longer a pagan; but I'm right.

Ain't I, sonny ?" He thrust an arm into the ribs of Paul, who was sitting between them.
Paul looked at Jane.

"I think this proves it." She returned his look steadily.

"I own I was wrong.