Somebody is playing "Love Moon" on a mandolin far across the campus, and the music seems to bring you into the window.

Now he's playing "Good-by, Boys, I'm Through," and how well it suits me.

For I am through with everything.

I have decided never to take a cocktail again, and I know I'll never again fall in love--I couldn't--you've been too much a part of my days and nights to ever let me think of another girl.

I meet them all the time and they don't interest me.
I'm not pretending to be blase, because it's not that.