"
Miss Weyland questioned the rudeness; she said that the man was only
superbly natural. "Thoughts came to him and he blabbed them out
artlessly. The only things that he seemed in the least interested in
were his apples and Bee. Don't you think from this that he must be a
floral and faunal naturalist?"
"No Goth, at any rate. Did you happen to notice the tome sticking out of
his coat pocket? It was _The Religion of Humanity_, unless my old eyes
deceived me. Who under heaven reads Comte nowadays?"
"Not me," said Miss Weyland.
"There's nothing to it. As a wealthy old friend of mine once remarked,
people who read that sort of books never make over eighteen hundred a
year."
On that they turned into Saltman's. There much stationery and collateral
stuff was bought for cash paid down, and all for the use of the
Department. Next, at a harness-store, a leash was bargained for and
obtained, and Behemoth bowled over no more young men that day.
Thereafter, the two set their faces westerly till they came to the
girl's home, where the dog was delivered to the cook, and Miss Weyland
went upstairs to kiss her mother.
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