 Which word doesn't describe Partridge?
Because they were real, I talked about them as if they were real, and I almost earned a bunk in the home for retarded children until I got smart enough to keep the beasts to myself. It was two or three years later that I skulked into Brother Partridge's mission on Durbin Street. Partridge was supposed to think I was just a bum. Partridge didn't seem to notice me, but I knew that was an act. "Brothers," Partridge went on after enjoying the interruption with a beaming smile, "you shall all be entitled to a bowl of turkey soup prepared by Sister Partridge, a generous supply of sweet rolls and dinner rolls contributed by the Early Morning Bakery of this city, and all the coffee you can drink. Even Partridge made his way down from the auctioneer's stand like a vulture with a busted wing and darted through his private door. The box was fastened to the vertical tongue-and-groove laths of the woodwork, not the wall. While keeping a lookout for Partridge and somebody stepping out of the kitchen for a pull on a bottle, I spotted the clock for the first time, a Western Union clock high up at the back of the hall. "This," Brother Partridge said, "is one of the most profound experiences of my life." My head hinged until it lined my eyes up with Brother Partridge.
 suspicious
 suspicious  compassionate  patient  sympathetic