“I said nothing of the kind. It is not to be believed; those who know me will tell you it is not to be believed. It is against my nature.”
“‘I think,’ he continued, ‘I know how it can be managed. I know a young fellow whom I’ll introduce to you. You may find him of use. He’s a first-rate penman.’ ‘Do you mean that he’s an expert forger?’ ‘Lawrence,’ cried Mr. Bernstein, ‘you shouldn’t use such words—you really shouldn’t.’”
“You hear him admit it? I said, ‘You should not use such words.’ I have always said it—always.”
“He made me known to this expert penman, getting up a three-cornered dinner for that especial purpose. The expert penman was our young friend here—Tom Moore.”
“I never wanted to know you—never. I told him that I didn’t.”
Mr. Bernstein contradicted the young gentleman’s disclaimer.
“Now, Moore, that is not so. You were always willing to make his acquaintance; why not? He was a gentleman of family, of fortune. Why should you not have been willing to know such an one?
“He didn’t turn out like that, did he? Look how he served me!”
“Ah, that is another matter. We could not have foreseen how he was to turn out. We supposed him to be a gentleman of reputation—of character.”
“Innocent-minded Bernstein! Ingenuous Tom Moore! After dinner Moore returned with me to my rooms.”