"
Tommy went to bed in an agony of mortification, but presently to his
side came Pym.
"Where did you copy this from?" he asked. "'It is when we are thinking
of those we love that our noblest thoughts come to us, and the more
worthy they are of our love the nobler the thought; hence it is that
no one has done the greatest work who did not love God.'"
"I copied it from nowhere," replied Tommy, fiercely; "it's my own."
"Well, it has nothing to do with the story, and so is only a blot on
it, and I have no doubt the thing has been said much better before.
Still, I suppose it is true."
"It's true," said Tommy; "and yet--"
"Go on. I want to know all about it."
"And yet," Tommy said, puzzled, "I've known noble thoughts come to me
when I was listening to a brass band."
Pym chuckled. "Funny things, noble thoughts," he agreed. He read
another passage: "'It was the last half-hour of day when I was
admitted, with several others, to look upon my friend's dead face. A
handkerchief had been laid over it. I raised the handkerchief. I know
not what the others were thinking, but the last time we met he had
told me something, it was not much--only that no woman had ever kissed
him.
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