On learning that he had completed two years in the university, Martin was puzzled to know where he had stored it away.

Nevertheless Martin liked him better than the platitudinous bank cashier.
"I really don't object to platitudes," he told Ruth later; "but what worries me into nervousness is the pompous, smugly complacent, superior certitude with which they are uttered and the time taken to do it.

Why, I could give that man the whole history of the Reformation in the time he took to tell me that the Union-Labor Party had fused with the Democrats.
Do you know, he skins his words as a professional poker-player skins the cards that are dealt out to him.

Some day I'll show you what I mean." "I'm sorry you don't like him," was her reply.

"He's a favorite of Mr.
Butler's.