'
I grasped his hand and shook it warmly.
The anecdote-monger began talking at once about Sinfi, Wilderspin,
and Cyril Aylwin, speaking of them in the most genial and
affectionate terms. In a few minutes, without withdrawing a word he
had said about either of them, he had entirely changed the spirit of
every word. At first I tried to resist his sophistry, but it was not
to be resisted. I ended by apologising to him for my stupidity in
misunderstanding him.
'My dear fellow,' said he, 'not a word, not a word. I admired the way
in which you stood up for absent friends. Didn't you, D'Arcy?'
At this the other broke out into another mellow laugh. 'I did. How's
your kinsman, and how's Wilderspin?' he said, turning to me. 'Did you
leave them well?'
We soon began, all three of us, to talk freely together. Of course I
was filled with curiosity about my new friends, especially about the
liar. His extraordinary command of facial expression, coupled with
the fact that he wore no hair on his face, made me at first think he
was a great actor; but being at that time comparatively ignorant of
the stage, I did not attempt to guess what actor it was.
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