Perhaps it's only that I'm a poor scholar.

But I don't know, really, that I despise Fulkerson so much for his course this morning as for his gross and fulsome flatteries of Dryfoos last night.

I could hardly stomach it." His wife made him tell her what they were, and then she said, "Yes, that was loathsome; I couldn't have believed it of Mr.Fulkerson." "Perhaps he only did it to keep the talk going, and to give the old man a chance to say something," March leniently suggested.

"It was a worse effect because he didn't or couldn't follow up Fulkerson's lead." "It was loathsome, all the same," his wife insisted.

"It's the end of Mr.Fulkerson, as far as I'm concerned." "I didn't tell you before," March resumed, after a moment, "of my little interview with Conrad Dryfoos after his father left," and now he went on to repeat what had passed between him and the young man.
"I suspect that he and his father had been having some words before the old man came up to talk with me, and that it was that made him so furious." "Yes, but what a strange position for the son of such a man to take! Do you suppose he says such things to his father ?" "I don't know; but I suspect that in his meek way Conrad would say what he believed to anybody.