Being a trifle under medium height, weighing less than one hundred and twenty pounds stripped, as wiry as a cat and as indefatigable as a Scotch terrier, and with an abnormally large pair of ears that stood out like oyster shells from the sides of a round, sleek head, he made no pretentions to physical splendour,--unless, by chance, you would call the perky little straw-coloured moustache that adorned his long upper lip a tribute to vanity.

His eyes were blue and merry and set wide apart under a bulging, intellectual looking forehead, and his teeth were large and as white as snow.

When he laughed the world laughed with him, and when he tried to appear downcast the laughter went on just the same, for then he was more amusing than ever.
"I didn't know you were a friend of hers," said he as they stood in front of the hotel waiting for the taxi that was to take Thorpe to a hospital.
Thorpe remembered the admonition.

"I tried to put a little back-bone into George Tresslyn at the time of the rumpus, if that's what you'd call being a friend to her," he said evasively.
"She's a nice little girl," said Simmy, "and she's been darned badly treated.

Mrs.Tresslyn has never gotten over the fact that Lutie made her pay handsomely to get the noble Georgie back into the smart set.