My father was a lawyer, you know."
"Was he? It's the first time you ever told me," replied Gammon with
a chuckle.
"Nonsense! I must have mentioned it many a time. I've often noticed,
Gammon, how very defective your memory is. You should use a mnemonic
system. I made a splendid one some years ago; it helped me
immensely."
"I could have felt sure," said Gammon, "that you told me once your
father was a coal merchant."
"Why, so he was--later on. Am I to understand, Gammon, that you
accuse me of distorting facts?"
With the end of his third tumbler there had come upon Greenacre a
tendency to maudlin dignity and sensitiveness; he laid a hand on his
friend's arm and looked at him with pained reproach.
"Gammon! I was never inclined to mendacity, though I confess to
mendicity I have occasionally fallen. To you, Gammon, I could not
lie; I respect you, I admire you, in spite of the great distance
between us in education and habits of mind. If I thought you accused
me of falsehood, my dear Gammon, it would distress me deeply.
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