“The Anglo-Saxon, suh,” he was saying, “is found in his greatest purity of blood in ouah Southe‘n states. It is thah, suh, that those qualities of virility and capacity fo’ rulership which make the race what is ah found in theiah highest development—on this side of the watah, suh, on this side!”
“Quite so! I dare say, quite so!” responded Mr. Barr-Smith. “I hope to know the people of the South better. In fact, I may say, really, you know, an occasion like this gives one the desire to become acquainted with the whole American people.”
General Lattimore, whose nostrils flared as he leaned forward listening, like an opponent in a debate, to the remarks of Captain Tolliver, subsided as he heard the Englishman’s diplomatic reply.
“What’s the use?” said he to Josie. “He may be nearer right than I can understand.”
“We hope,” said Mr. Elkins, “that this desire may be focalized locally, and grow to anything short of a disease. I assure you, Lattimore will congratulate herself.”
Mr. Barr-Smith’s fingers sought his glass, as if the impulse were on him to propose a toast; but the liquid facilities being absent, he relapsed into a conversation with Mrs. Hinckley.
“I’d say those things, too, if I were in his place,” came the words of Giddings, overshooting their mark, the ear of Miss Addison; “but it’s all rot. He’s disgusted with the whole barbarous outfit of us.”
“I am becoming curious,” was the sotto voce reply, “to know upon what model you found your conduct, Mr. Giddings.”
“I know what you mean,” said Mr. Giddings. “But I have adopted Iago.”