"I've been trying to get in to see
you," said he. "I wanted to explain about that unfortunate Textile deal."
This, when the assault on me had burst out with fresh energy the day after
he landed from Europe! I could scarcely believe that his vanity, his
confidence in his own skill at underground work could so delude him. "Don't
bother," said I. "All that's ancient history."
But he had thought out some lies he regarded as particularly creditable to
his ingenuity; he was not to be deprived of the pleasure of telling them.
So I was compelled to listen; and, being in an indulgent mood, I did not
spoil his pleasure by letting him see or suspect my unbelief. If he could
have looked into my mind, as I stood there in an attitude of patient
attention, I think even his self-complacence would have been put out of
countenance. You may admire the exploits of a "gentleman" cracksman or
pickpocket, if you hear or read them with only their ingenuity put before
you. But _see_ a "gentleman" liar or thief at his sneaking, cowardly
work, and admiration is impossible. As Langdon lied on, as I studied
his cheap, vulgar exhibition of himself, he all unconscious, I thought:
"Beneath that very thin surface of yours, you're a poor cowardly
creature--you, and all your fellow bandits.
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