I had never been overly fond of Clark Oliver , although he was my cousin . He was a bit of a cad , and stupider than anyone belonging to our family had a right to be . Moreover , he was in politics , and I detest politics . But I rather wanted to see if he looked as much like me as he used to . I had n't seen him for three years and I hoped that the time might have differentiated us to a saving degree . It was over a year since I had last been blown up by some unknown , excited individual on the ground that I was that scoundrel Oliver -- politically speaking . I thought that was a good omen . I went to Clark 's office , found he had left , and followed him to his rooms . The minute I saw him I experienced the same nasty feeling of lost or bewildered individuality which always overcame me in his presence . He was so absurdly like me . I felt as if I were looking into a mirror where my reflection persisted in doing things I did n't do , thereby producing a most uncanny sensation . Clark pretended he was glad to see me . He really could n't have been , because his Great Idea had n't struck him then , and we had always disliked each other . `` Hello , Elliott , '' he said , shaking me by the hand with a twist he had learned in election campaigns , whereby something like heartiness was simulated . `` Glad to see you , old fellow . Gad , you 're as like me as ever . Where did you drop from ? '' I explained my predicament and we talked amiably and harmlessly for awhile about family gossip . I abhor family gossip , but it is a shade better than politics , and those two subjects are the only ones on which Clark can converse at all . I described Mary Alice 's wedding , and Florence 's new young man , and Tom-and-Kate 's twins .
Clark tried XXXXX be interested but I saw he had something on what serves him for a mind .
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