“It is enough,” sighed Brother Higgs, whose own audience was frequently content to be on the wrong side of the window, “it is enough to make a man vain.”
“I struggle against it, Brother,” said Mr. Burge, passing his cup up for some more tea. “I fight against it hard, but once the Evil One was almost too much for me; and in spite of myself, and knowing besides that it was a plot of 'is, I nearly felt uplifted.”
Brother Higgs, passing him some more beef, pressed for details.
“He sent me two policemen,” replied the other, scowling darkly at the meanness of the trick. “One I might 'ave stood, but two come to being pretty near too much for me. They sat under me while I gave 'em the Word 'ot and strong, and the feeling I had standing up there and telling policemen what they ought to do I shall never forget.”
“But why should policemen make you proud?” asked his puzzled listener.
Mr. Burge looked puzzled in his turn. “Why, hasn't Brother Clark told you about me?” he inquired.
Mr. Higgs shook his head. “He sort of—suggested that—that you had been a little bit wild before you came to us,” he murmured apologetically.
“A—little—bit—wild?” repeated Brother Burge, in horrified accents. “ME? a little bit wild?”
“No doubt he exaggerated a little,” said the jeweller hurriedly. “Being such a good man himself, no doubt things would seem wild to him that wouldn't to us—to me, I mean.”
“A little bit wild,” said his visitor again. “Sam Burge, the Converted Burglar, a little bit wild. Well, well!”