Mere collectors--of which class my guest was--were bad enough.

Still, if you could catch a collector in one of his human moments-- He blew forth the smoke of my cigar with a relish so poignant that I suspected he had already tried one of Jake Kilburn's best, the kind concerning which Jake feels it considerate to warn purchasers that they are "five cents, straight" and _not_ six for a quarter.

I saw that if the collector before me were subject to human moments, he must be suffering one now.

So, while he smoked, I told him freely of Miss Caroline, of her furniture and her plight.
He commended the tale.
"One of the best I ever heard," he declared.

"Only, if you'll pardon me, it sounds too good to be true.