I'm middle-aged, am I?"
"By George," said De Gollyer, in free admiration, "you're getting into
form, my boy, excellent form. Fine, fine, very fine!"
"In half an hour at the Club."
"Done."
"Jim?"
"Jack!"
They precipitated themselves into each other's arms. Lightbody, as
delirious as a young girl at the thought of her first ball, cried:
"Paris, Vienna, Morocco--two years around the world!"
"On my honor!"
Rapidly Lightbody, impatient for the celebration, put De Gollyer into
his coat and armed him with his cane.
"In half an hour, Jim. Get Budd, get Reggie Longworth, and, I say, get
that little reprobate of a Smithy, will you?"
"Yes, by George."
At the door, De Gollyer, who, when he couldn't leave on an epigram,
liked to recall the best thing he had said, turned:
"Never again, eh, old boy?"
"Never," cried Lightbody, with the voice of a cannon.
"No social sounding-board for us, eh?"
"Never again!"
"You do like that, don't you? I say a good thing now and then, don't I?"
Lightbody, all eagerness, drove him down the hall, crying:
"Round 'em up--round them all up! I'll show them if I've come back!"
When he had returned, waltzing on his toes to the middle of the room, he
stopped and flung out his arms in a free gesture, inhaling a delicious
breath.
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