"Freckles! Wake up!" she cried, almost shaking him. "Come to your
senses! Be a thinking, reasoning man! You have brooded too much, and
been all your life too much alone. It's all as plain as plain can be to
me. You must see it! Like breeds like in this world! You must be some
sort of a reproduction of your parents, and I am not afraid to vouch for
them, not for a minute!
"And then, too, if more proof is needed, here it is: Mr. McLean says
that you never once have failed in tact and courtesy. He says that you
are the most perfect gentleman he ever knew, and he has traveled the
world over. How does it happen, Freckles? No one at that Home taught
you. Hundreds of men couldn't be taught, even in a school of etiquette;
so it must be instinctive with you. If it is, why, that means that it is
born in you, and a direct inheritance from a race of men that have been
gentlemen for ages, and couldn't be anything else.
"Then there's your singing. I don't believe there ever was a mortal with
a sweeter voice than yours, and while that doesn't prove anything, there
is a point that does.
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