"Do I live at the poorhouse?" repeated Percy, exasperated. "Of course I don't."
Mrs. Dixon had heard this colloquy, as she was sitting in the carriage only six feet away.
"Percy," she said, "I told you you had made a mistake."
"I don't believe I have," said Percy in a sulky tone.
"For whom do you take me, Mr. Dixon?" asked Jed.
"For Jed Gilman, a poorhouse boy."
"I feel very much complimented," said Jed smoothly. "I hope Jed is a nice boy."
"No, he isn't. He is an impudent young rascal."
"Then how dare you compare my friend Ralph to a boy like that?" demanded Bertram savagely. "You must be crazy, or do you mean to deliberately insult him?"
Poor Percy was overwhelmed. He wasn't half so certain now that he was right. True, there was a wonderful resemblance between the young actor and Jed, but then it seemed impossible that Jed should have left the poorhouse suddenly (and Percy remembered seeing him that very afternoon at his own home) and developed into a member of a dramatic company.