He seemed for the moment a little confused at being seen in such
a neighbourhood, but recovered himself so soon that Ernest hardly
noticed it, and then plunged into a few kindly remarks about old
times. Ernest felt that he quailed as he saw Towneley's eye wander
to his white necktie and saw that he was being reckoned up, and rather
disapprovingly reckoned up, as a parson. It was the merest passing
shade upon Towneley's face, but Ernest had felt it.
Towneley said a few words of common form to Ernest about his
profession as being what he thought would be most likely to interest
him, and Ernest; still confused and shy, gave him for lack of
something better to say his little threepenny-bit about poor people
being so very nice. Towneley took this for what it was worth and
nodded assent, whereon Ernest imprudently went further and said,
"Don't you like poor people very much yourself.?"
Towneley gave his face a comical but good-natured screw, and said
quietly, but slowly and decidedly, "No, no, no," and escaped.
It was all over with Ernest from that moment. As usual he did not
know it, but he had entered none the less upon another reaction.
Towneley had just taken Ernest's threepenny-bit into his hands, looked
at it and returned it to him as a bad one.
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