.

.

.

Why, Boots, an ordinary man--I mean an everyday fellow who dines and dances and does the harmlessly usual about town, dwindles to anaemic insignificance when compared to that young girl--even now when she's practically undeveloped--when her intelligence is like an uncut gem still in the matrix of inexperience--" "Help!" said Boots feebly, attempting to bolt; but Selwyn hooked arms with him, laughing excitedly.

In fact Lansing had not seen his friend in such excellent spirits for many, many months; and it made him exceedingly light-hearted, so that he presently began to chant the old service canticle: "I have another, he's just as bad, He almost drives me crazy--" And arm in arm they swung into the dark avenue, singing "Barney Riley" in resonant undertones, while overhead the chilly little Western stars looked down through pallid convolutions of moving clouds, and the wind in the gas-lit avenue grew keener on the street-corners.
"Cooler followed by clearing," observed Boots in disgust.