His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. “That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. I am sorry, but you have spoilt me. That ring manifestly occupied her thoughts a great deal. “I want to make love for the first time tonight. E. Father— dead. “Really, I do not know why I should have doubted it. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” He said. “You see, Vee,” said Mrs. " "Egad, Jack," said Gay, "you should write your adventures. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. " "I never heard of anybody who could," declared McClintock.
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