"They're great, and I couldn't get along without
'em, but I wouldn't stand them for five minutes if I'd married Molly
Meeker instead of you. You'd better keep out of this. Stick to your
resolution. Let Molly choose her own husband, and Walter his wife. You
never can tell how things are going to turn out. Why, I introduced
Willie Timpkins to George Barker at the club one night last winter,
feeling that there were two fellows who were designed by Providence for
the old Damon and Pythias performance, and it wasn't ten minutes before
they were quarrelling like a couple of cats, and every time they meet
nowadays they have to be introduced all over again."
"I don't wonder at that at all," said Mrs. Upton. "Willie Timpkins is
precisely the same kind of a person that George Barker is, and when they
meet each other and realize that they are exactly alike, and see how
sort of small and mean they really are, it destroys their self-love."
"I never saw it in that light before," said Upton, reflectively, "but I
imagine you are right. There's lots in that. If a man really wrote down
on paper his candid opinion of himself, he'd have a good case for
slander against the publisher who printed it--I guess."
"I should think you'd have known better than to bring those two
together, and under the circumstances I don't wonder they hate each
other," said Mrs. Upton.
"Sympathy ought to count for something," pleaded Upton.
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