"I thought you were never coming back." His resentment of middle age and jealousy of the towering youth of the sun-tanned lad who had been Joan's companion were a little pitiful.
Harry caught his look and laughed with the sublime audacity of one who believes that he ranks among the Immortals.

To him forty-nine seemed to be a colossal sum of years, almost beyond belief.

It was pathetic of this old fellow to imagine that he had any right to the company of a girl so springlike as Joan.

"If we hadn't worn the horses to a frazzle," he said, "we shouldn't have been back till dark.

Have a drink, Joan ?" "Yes, water.