Adam's careless dart had struck deep and sharp and it rankled.
"Very well, Adam," he said, "I'll practice on you." Truth! Truth! he reflected passionately at the window.

Was the world mad about it?
And what was the matter with himself?
Why did the romantic freaks of his fancy always fill him now with vague worry?
"What," gasped Adam, staring, "did you say ?" "I said," flung out Kenny, "that I'd practice telling the truth and I'd practice on you.

And by Heaven I will!" He wiped his forehead with a shaky hand.

The room was warm, the lamp flickering hotly in the summer breeze.

He thought of Joan and the ferry.