Digital heart book

There were days when Jim wore
an air of unusual capacity and resolve, spoke with more
brevity, like one pressed for time, and took often on
his tongue such phrases as "Longhurst told me so this
morning," or "I had it straight from Longhurst
himself." It was no wonder, I used to think, that
Pinkerton was called to council with such Titans; for
the creature's quickness and resource were beyond
praise. In the early days when he consulted me without
reserve, pacing the room, projecting, ciphering,
extending hypothetical interests, trebling imaginary
capital, his "engine" (to renew an excellent old word)
labouring full steam ahead, I could never decide
whether my sense of respect or entertainment were the
stronger. But these good hours were destined to
curtailment.
"Yes, It's smart enough," I once observed. "But,
Pinkerton, do you think it's honest?"
"You don't think it's honest?" he wailed. "O dear me,
that ever I should have heard such an expression on
your lips."
At sight of his distress I plagiarised unblushingly
from Myner.


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