"
Craig quivered and reddened at "common origin," as Madam Bowker
expected and hoped. She had not felt that she was taking a risk in
thus hardily ignoring her own origin; Lard had become to her, as
to all Washington, an unreality like a shadowy reminiscence of a
possible former sojourn on earth. "I see," pursued she, "that I
hurt your vanity by my frankness--"
"Not at all! Not at all!" blustered Joshua, still angrier--as
Madam Bowker had calculated.
"Don't misunderstand me," pursued she tranquilly. "I was simply
stating a fact without aspersion. It is the more to your credit
that you have been able to raise yourself up among us--and so very
young! You are not more than forty, are you?"
"Thirty-four," said Craig surlily. He began to feel like a cur
that is getting a beating from a hand beyond the reach of its
fangs. "I've had a hard life--"
"So I should judge," thrust the old lady with gentle sympathy. It
is not necessary to jab violently with a red-hot iron in order to
make a deep burn.
"But I am the better for it," continued Craig, eyes flashing and
orator lips in action. "And you and your kind--your granddaughter
Margaret--would be the better for having faced--for having to
face--the realities of life instead of being pampered in luxury
and uselessness.
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