Candy had something important to say
to me!
I attempted to help him out once more. But, this time, my own interests
were at the bottom of my compassionate motive, and they hurried me on a
little too abruptly, to the end I had in view.
"It's nearly a year now," I said, "since we sat at that pleasant table.
Have you made any memorandum--in your diary, or otherwise--of what you
wanted to say to me?"
Mr. Candy understood the suggestion, and showed me that he understood
it, as an insult.
"I require no memorandum, Mr. Blake," he said, stiffly enough. "I am not
such a very old man, yet--and my memory (thank God) is to be thoroughly
depended on!"
It is needless to say that I declined to understand that he was offended
with me.
"I wish I could say the same of my memory," I answered. "When I try to
think of matters that are a year old, I seldom find my remembrance as
vivid as I could wish it to be. Take the dinner at Lady Verinder's, for
instance----"
Mr. Candy brightened up again, the moment the allusion passed my lips.
"Ah! the dinner, the dinner at Lady Verinder's!" he exclaimed, more
eagerly than ever. "I have got something to say to you about that.
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