Aren't you getting a little overstrung, old man ?" Godfrey looked it.

His face was noticeably thinner than a month ago, and his eyes had a troubled fixity such as comes of intense preoccupation.
"Daresay I am," he admitted with a show of careless good-humour.

"Can't get much sleep lately." "But why?
What the deuce is there to fuss about?
Sit down and smoke a cigar.

I suppose you've had breakfast ?" "No--yes, I mean, yes, of course, long ago." Will did not believe the corrected statement.

He gazed at his friend curiously and with some anxiety.
"It's an unaccountable thing that you should fret your gizzard out about this new affair, which seems all so smooth, when you took the Ailie Street worries without turning a hair." "Stupid--nerves out of order," muttered Godfrey, as he crossed, uncrossed, recrossed his legs, and bit at a cigar, as if he meant to breakfast on it.