'--That last is not quite literal, but I think it's about
right," concluded Malcolm, putting the book again in the breast
pocket of his silver buttoned coat. "--That's the passage I
thought of, but I see now it won't apply. He speaks of not saying
what you know; I spoke of forgetting where you got it."
"Come now," said Lenorme, growing more and more interested in his
new acquaintance, "tell me something about your life. Account for
yourself.--If you will make a friendship of it, you must do that."
"I will, sir," said Malcolm, and with the word began to tell him
most things he could think of as bearing upon his mental history
up to and after the time also when his birth was disclosed to him.
In omitting that disclosure he believed he had without it quite
accounted for himself. Through the whole recital he dwelt chiefly
on the lessons and influences of the schoolmaster.
"Well, I must admit," said Lenorme when he had ended, "that you
are no longer unintelligible, not to say incredible. You have had
a splendid education, in which I hope you give the herring and
Kelpie their due share."
He sat silently regarding him for a few moments. Then he said:
"I'll tell you what now: if I help you to buy a horse, you must
help me to paint a picture."
"I don't know how I'm to do that," said Malcolm, "but if you do,
that's enough.
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