“Thank you,” said Annie, touched by something gentle and honest in his words.
“He was a Christian gentleman,” said Mr. Gerrish with authority.
Putney said, without noticing Mr. Gerrish, “Well, I'm glad you've come back to the old place, Miss Kilburn—I almost said Annie.”
“I shouldn't have minded, Ralph,” she retorted.
“Shouldn't you? Well, that's right.” Putney continued, ignoring the laugh of the others at Annie's sally: “You'll find Hatboro' pretty exciting, after Rome, for a while, I suppose. But you'll get used to it. It's got more of the modern improvements, I'm told, and it's more public-spirited—more snap to it. I'm told that there's more enterprise in Hatboro', more real crowd in South Hatboro' alone, than there is in the Quirinal and the Vatican put together.”
“You had better come and live at South Hatboro', Mr. Putney; that would be just the atmosphere for you,” said Mrs. Munger, with aimless hospitality. She said this to every one.
“Is it about coming to South Hatboro' you want to consult me?” asked Putney.
“Well, it is, and it isn't,” she began.
“Better be honest, Mrs. Munger,” said Putney. “You can't do anything for a client who won't be honest with his attorney. That's what I have to continually impress upon the reprobates who come to me. I say, 'It don't matter what you've done; if you expect me to get you off, you've got to make a clean breast of it.' They generally do; they see the sense of it.”
They all laughed, and Mr. Gerrish said, “Mr. Putney is one of Hatboro's privileged characters, Miss Kilburn.”