Ah, she was a woman in a
thousand! Often had Mr. Parker sat at her feet, a respectful disciple,
listening spellbound and striving to acquire that secret--a secret which
was, after all, not so much art as nature. He could never hope to rival
her technique.
That was because he could not look you in the face; because he
disbelieved not only his own lies, but those of other people--and not
only their lies, but their truths; because he distrusted everything and
everybody, and was duly distrusted in his turn. Nobody believed a word
he said, and some rude persons went so far as to tell him exactly what
they thought of him. They called him a liar in public and in private.
Such experiences are trying to one's nerve; they end in giving you a
shifty look. People who knew him well never took his word for granted,
and the more casual acquaintance would say that even if his facts were
correct now and then he could not help being a fraud all the same.
And now she was gone, this lady who had saved him from countless small
annoyances, who had given him self-esteem and a kind of social
backbone.
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