First, it
was too bad that Mr. Galloway did the sort of things which he did; no
doubt he had had no mother to teach him when he was very young. Next,
it was a shame that he was blamed for everything that had to happen;
maybe he was a . . . a bad man, but Florrie simply didn't believe he
was responsible for half of the deeds laid at his door. Finally,
through a long and intricate chain of considerations, the girl reached
the point where she nodded when Galloway lifted his hat. The smile in
the man's eyes was one of pure triumph.
"Oh, my dear!" Florrie burst into Virginia's room, flushed and
palpitant with her latest emotion. "He has told me all about it, and
do you know, I don't believe that we have the right to blame him?
Doesn't it say in the Bible or . . . or somewhere, that greater praise
or something shall no man have than he who gives his life for a friend?
It's something like that, anyway. Aren't people just horrid, always
blaming other people, never stopping to consider their reasons and
impulses and looking at it from their side? Vidal Nunez was a friend
of Mr. Galloway's; he was in Mr. Galloway's house. Of course . . ."
"I thought that you didn't speak to him any more."
"I didn't for a long time. But if you could have only seen the way he
always looks at me when I bump into him.
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