Digital heart book

I believe, indeed, that was the
last (though not the least) of my concerns, before the
old minister, shabby and benign, was routed from his
house and led to the office like a performing poodle;
and there, in the growing dusk, under the cold glitter
of Thirteen Star, two hundred strong, and beside the
garish glories of the agricultural engine, Mamie and
Jim were made one. The scene was incongruous, but the
business pretty, whimsical, and affecting; the
typewriters with such kindly faces and fine posies,
Mamie so demure, and Jim--how shall I describe that
poor, transfigured Jim? He began by taking the minister
aside to the far end of the office. I knew not what he
said, but I have reason to believe he was protesting
his unfitness, for he wept as he said it; and the old
minister, himself genuinely moved, was heard to console
and encourage him, and at one time to use this
expression: "I assure you, Mr. Pinkerton, there are not
many who can say so much"--from which I gathered that
my friend had tempered his self-accusations with at
least one legitimate boast.


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