"I didn't seem to improve my opportunities." This time he did not meet Calderwell's eyes.
The good-byes had been said when Calderwell turned abruptly at the door.
"Oh, I say, I suppose you're going to that devil's carnival at Jordan Hall to-morrow night." "Devil's carnival! You don't mean--Cyril Henshaw's piano recital!" "Sure I do," grinned Calderwell, unabashed.

"And I'll warrant it'll be a devil's carnival, too.

Isn't Mr.Cyril Henshaw going to play his own music?
Oh, I know I'm hopeless, from your standpoint, but I can't help it.

I like mine with some go in it, and a tune that you can find without hunting for it.

And I don't like lost spirits gone mad that wail and shriek through ten perfectly good minutes, and then die with a gasping moan whose home is the tombs.