I don't do it often these days--not since Jameson spilt the milk and the can went trundling down the area.

It's little time we get for dreaming, these sodden days, but it's only dreams that do the world's work and our own work in the end.

It's dreams that do it, Barry; it's dreams that drive us on, that make us see beyond the present and the stupefying, deadening grind of the day.

So it'll be Cape to Cairo in good time, dear lad, and no damnation, if you please....

Why, what's got into you?
And again, what have you come to see me about, anyhow?
You knew we were to meet at dinner at Wallstein's to-night.