But now, if I had a cropper, and got sold up----" "You, Beauty ?" The Seraph puffed a giant puff of amazement from his Havana, opening his blue eyes to their widest.
"Possible!" returned Bertie serenely, with a nonchalant twist to his mustaches.

"Anything's possible.

If I do now, it strikes me there are vast fields open." "Gold fields!" suggested the Seraph, wholly bewildered.
"Gold fields?
No! I mean a field for--what d'ye call it--genius.

Now, look here; nine-tenths of creatures in this world don't know how to put on a glove.

It's an art, and an art that requires long study.