Oh, come on, Phil, for Heaven's sake! If there were really any reason--any logical reason for this genius-in-the-garret business, I'd not say a word.

But there isn't; you're going to make money--" "Oh, yes, I've got to," said Selwyn simply.
"Well, then! In the meanwhile--" "No.

Listen, Boots; I couldn't be free in your house.

I--they--there are telegrams--unexpected ones--at all hours." "What of it ?" "You don't understand." "Wait a bit! How do you know I don't?
Do the telegrams come from Sandy Hook ?" "No." Boots looked him calmly in the eye.

"Then I _do_ understand, old man.
Come on out of this, in Heaven's name! Come, now! Get your dressing-gown off and your coat on! Don't you think I understand?
I tell you I _do_! Yes, the whole blessed, illogical, chivalrous business.