As they kissed coolly and he stepped into the electric, he felt a quick fear lest he had lost the requisite charm to measure up to her.
"Dear boy--you're _so_ tall...

look behind and see if there's anything coming..." She looked left and right, she slipped cautiously into a speed of two miles an hour, beseeching Amory to act as sentinel; and at one busy crossing she made him get out and run ahead to signal her forward like a traffic policeman.

Beatrice was what might be termed a careful driver.
"You _are_ tall--but you're still very handsome--you've skipped the awkward age, or is that sixteen; perhaps it's fourteen or fifteen; I can never remember; but you've skipped it." "Don't embarrass me," murmured Amory.
"But, my dear boy, what odd clothes! They look as if they were a _set_--don't they?
Is your underwear purple, too ?" Amory grunted impolitely.
"You must go to Brooks' and get some really nice suits.

Oh, we'll have a talk to-night or perhaps to-morrow night.

I want to tell you about your heart--you've probably been neglecting your heart--and you don't _know_." Amory thought how superficial was the recent overlay of his own generation.