ry gentleman who smokes. Had I declined it, Pettigrew
might have thought that I disliked the brand, which would have been
painful to him. However, he did not at once bring out the tobacco;
indeed, his precise words, I remember, were that we had lots of time.
As his guest I could not press him further.

Pettigrew smokes more quickly than I do, and he had reached the end of
his second cigar when there was still five minutes of mine left. It
distresses me to have to say what followed. He hastily lighted a third
cigar, and then, unlocking a cupboard, produced about two ounces of
his garden tobacco. His object was only too plain. Having just begun a
third cigar he could not be expected to try the tobacco at present, but
there was nothing to prevent my trying it. I regarded Pettigrew rather
contemptuously, and then I looked with much interest at the tobacco. It
was of an inky color. When I looked up I caught Pettigrew's eye on me.
He withdrew it hurriedly, but soon afterward I saw him looking in the
same sly way again. There was a rather painful silence for a time, and
then he asked me if I had anything to say. I replied firmly that I was
looking forward to trying the tobacco with very great interest. By this
time my cigar was reduced to a stump, but, for reasons that Pettigrew
misunderstood, I continued to smoke it. Somehow our chairs had got out
of position now, and we were sitting with our backs to each other.
I felt that Pettigrew was looking at me covertly over his shoulder,
and took a side glance to make sure of this. Our eyes met, and I bit
my lip. If there is one thing I loathe, it is to be looked at in this
shame-faced manner.

I continued to smoke the stump of my cigar until it scorched my
under-lip, and at intervals Pettigrew said, without looking round, that
my cigar seemed everlasting. I treated his innuendo with contempt; but
at last I had to let the cigar-end go. Not to make a fuss, I dropped
it very quietly; but Pettigrew must have been listening for the sound.
He wheeled round at once, and pushed the garden tobacco toward me.
Never, perhaps, have I thought so little of him as at that moment. My
indignation probably showed in my face, for he drew back, saying that he
thought I "wanted to try it." Now I had never said that I did not want
to try it. The reader has seen that I went to Pettigrew's house solely
with the object of trying the tobacco. Had Pettigrew, then, any ground
for insinuating that I did not me