"Well, he's a noble old fellow; pity he drinks." March would not smile, and Fulkerson broke out: "Dog on it! I'll make it up to the old fool the next time he comes.

I don't like that dynamite talk of his; but any man that's given his hand to the country has got mine in his grip for good.

Why, March! You don't suppose I wanted to hurt his feelings, do you ?" "Why, of course not, Fulkerson." But they could not get away from a certain ruefulness for that time, and in the evening Fulkerson came round to March's to say that he had got Lindau's address from Conrad, and had looked him up at his lodgings.
"Well, there isn't so much bric-a-brac there, quite, as Mrs.Green left you; but I've made it all right with Lindau, as far as I'm concerned.
I told him I didn't know when I spoke that way, and I honored him for sticking to his 'brinciples'; I don't believe in his 'brincibles'; and we wept on each other's necks--at least, he did.

Dogged if he didn't kiss me before I knew what he was up to.

He said I was his chenerous gong friendt, and he begged my barton if he had said anything to wound me.