I'd like it awfully if you'd let me--if you wouldn't mind being civil to him--once or twice, you know--" Mrs.Ruthven lay back in her seat, thoroughly annoyed.
"My theory," insisted the boy with generous conviction, "is that a man is what he makes himself.

People talk about climbers and butters-in, but where would anybody be in this town if nobody had ever butted in?
It's all rot, this aping the caste rules of established aristocracies; a decent fellow ought to be encouraged.

Anyway, I'm going to propose, him for the Stuyvesant and the Proscenium.

Why not ?" "I see.

And now you propose to bring him to my house ?" "If you'll let me.