"I had another idee. I
reckoned that on the matter o' holdin' property and passin' in money
it would be better to hev your name put on the square, and to sorter go
down to bed rock for it, eh? If I wanted to take a hand in them lots or
Ditch shares, for instance--it would be only law to hev it made out in
the name o' d'Aubigny."
Mr. Ford listened with certain impatient contempt. It was bad enough for
Uncle Ben to have exposed his weakness in inventing fictions about his
early education, but to invest himself now with a contingency of
capital for the sake of another childish vanity, was pitiable as it
was preposterous. There was no doubt that he had lied about his school
experiences; it was barely probable that his name was really d'Aubigny,
and it was quite consistent with all this--even setting apart the fact
that he was perfectly well known to be only a poor miner--that he should
lie again. Like most logical reasoners Mr. Ford forgot that humanity
might be illogical and inconsistent without being insincere.
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