The Three Taps by Ronald A. Knox — Read

The bewilderment registered by Mr. Pulteney's face at this extraordinary announcement rapidly gave way to a look of intense gratification. "At last," he said, "I have lived! To be mistaken for a criminal, perhaps a murderer -- it is my nunc dimittis. All these years I have lived the blameless life of one who is continually called upon to edify his juniors; I have risen early in order to convict my pupils of the sin of being late; I have eaten sparingly in order to pretend that the food provided by our establishment is satisfying when it is not; I have pretended to sentiments of patriotism, of rugged sportsmanship, of moral approval or indignation, which I did not feel. There is little to choose, believe me, between the fakir and the schoolmaster; either must spend days of wearisome mortification, because that is the way in which he gets his living. And now, for one crowded hour of glorious old age, I have been mistaken for a guilty intriguer. The blood flows richer in my veins; I am overcome with gratitude. If only I could have kept it up!"

"Mr. Eames," said Angela, "there's one thing you said which you've got to take back. You said Mr. Pulteney was too much a man of reflection to be a man of action as well. And now you've heard how he broke into a garage, stole a piece of sandwich, and took the cap off a petrol-tank without being in the least certain that the car wouldn't explode. Is this the pale scholar you pictured to us?"