His way of placing the chair proclaimed that he never
failed to do all that became a gentleman, no matter how neglectful
emotional people might sometimes become.
Philip Alston, coming in just at that moment, saw something of this with
mingled amusement and satisfaction. The candor of William Pressley's
self-consciousness, the sincerity of his self-conceit, the firmness of
his belief in his own infallibility, claimed a measure of real respect,
and Philip Alston gave it in full. He thought none the less of him
because he could not help smiling a little at the solemn progress which
the young lawyer was then making across the great room. To be able to
smile at anything on that day of strain was a boon. And then it was
always pleasing and cheering to see any fresh sign that he had read the
young lawyer's character aright, and he was glad to see again what a
good-looking, well-mannered, right-minded young fellow he was. Nothing
could be said against him. Everything--or almost everything--was to be
said in his praise. The open fact that he thought all this himself would
be nothing against him with Ruth.
Pages:
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370