He was quick enough to see that Jim Pocock declined judgement, had hovered quite round the outer edge of discussion and anxiety, leaving all analysis of their question to the ladies alone and now only feeling his way toward some small droll cynicism.

It broke out afresh, the cynicism--it had already shown a flicker--in a but slightly deferred: "Well, hanged if I would if I were he!" "You mean you wouldn't in Chad's place-- ?" "Give up this to go back and boss the advertising!" Poor Jim, with his arms folded and his little legs out in the open fiacre, drank in the sparkling Paris noon and carried his eyes from one side of their vista to the other.

"Why I want to come right out and live here myself.

And I want to live while I AM here too.

I feel with YOU--oh you've been grand, old man, and I've twigged--that it ain't right to worry Chad.