The faithful soul added in a
whisper of confidence: "He's a good man. There don't nobody know how deep
an' kind o' coralapus like he is."
She now paused as if to count stitches. For a long time the word
"coralapus" had been a prized possession of Mrs. Lukins. Like her
feathered bonnet, it was used only on special occasions by way of putting
her best foot forward. It was indeed a family ornament of the same
general character as her husband's title. Just how she came by it nobody
could tell, but of its general significance, as it fell from her lips;
there could be no doubt whatever in any but the most obtuse intellect.
For her it had a large and noble, although a rather indefinite meaning,
entirely favorable to the person or the object to which it was applied.
There was one other word in her lexicon which was in the nature of a
jewel to be used only on special occasions. It was the word "copasetic."
The best society of Salem Hill understood perfectly that it signalized
an unusual depth of meaning.
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