But it was too late.
"Brother Copas--you were saying-- ?" "I ought not to repeat it, sir.

But I heard Brother Copas say the other day that the teetotallers were in a hopeless case; being mostly religious men, and yet having to explain in the last instance why Our Lord, in Cana of Galilee, did not turn the water into ginger-pop." The Master frowned and stroked his gaiters.
"Brother Copas's tongue is too incisive.

Something must be forgiven to one who, having started as a scholar and a gentleman, finds himself toward the close of his days dependent on the bread of charity." It was benignly spoken; and to Mr.Simeon, who questioned nothing his patron said or did, no shade of misgiving occurred that, taken down in writing, it might annotate somewhat oddly the sermon on the table.
It was spoken with insight too, for had not his own poverty, or the fear of it, sharpened Mr.Simeon's tongue just now and prompted him to quote Brother Copas detrimentally?
The little man did not shape this accusation clearly against himself, for he had a rambling head; but he had also a sound heart, and it was uneasy.
"I ought not to have told it, sir.

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