"A tale that is told is the best tale of all," I said. "Shall we book you for next time?"
"No, no! not next time; positively not. My story must come of itself, else I cannot tell it at all."
"Well, there's nobody left but you, Mr. Bloomfield. So you can't get rid of it."
"I don't think I ever wrote what was worth calling a story; but I don't mind reading you something of the sort which I have at home, on one condition."
"What is that?"
"That nobody ask any questions about it."
"Oh! certainly."
"But my only reason is, that somehow I feel it would all come to pieces if you did. It is nothing, as a story; but there are feelings expressed in it, which were very strong in me when I wrote it, and which I do not feel willing to talk about, although I have no objection to having them thought about."
"Well, that is settled. When shall we meet again?"
"To-morrow, or the day after," said the colonel; "which you please."