These young men tell their friends of our hospitality, the music, our entertainment.

We become almost too much the fashion, and it costs money." Selingman held up his champagne glass, gazed at the wine for a moment, and slowly drank it.
"I am not of those," he announced, "who expect service for nothing, especially good service such as yours.

Watch for the postman, dear lady.
Any morning this week there may come for you a pleasant little surprise." She leaned over and patted his arm.
"You are a prince," she murmured.

"But tell me, who is the grave-looking young man ?" Selingman glanced up.

Norgate, who had been standing at the bar with Baring, was passing a few feet away.
"The rake's progress," the former quoted solemnly.
Selingman raised his glass.
"Come and join us," he invited.
Norgate shook his head slightly and passed on.