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"All Lies," said Hoopdriver, in a sepulchral voice. "Lies from beginning
to end. 'Ow I came to tell 'em I DON'T know."
She stared at him blankly.
"
I never set eyes on Africa in my life," said Mr. Hoopdriver, completing
the confession. Then he pulled his right hand from his pocket, and with
the nonchalance of one to whom the bitterness of death is passed, began
to drink his coffee.
"It's a little surprising," began Jessie, vaguely.
"
Think it over," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "I'm sorry from the bottom of my
heart."
And then breakfast proceeded in silence. Jessie ate very little, and
seemed lost in thought. Mr. Hoopdriver was so overcome by contrition and
anxiety that he consumed an extraordinarily large breakfast out of pure
nervousness, and ate his scrambled eggs for the most part with the
spoon that belonged properly to the marmalade. His eyes were gloomily
downcast. She glanced at him through her eyelashes. Once or twice she
struggled with laughter, once or twice she seemed to be indignant.
"I don't know what to think," she said at last. "I don't know what
to make of you--brother Chris. I thought, do you know? that you were
perfectly honest. And somehow--"
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