"By Jove, but you're fit!" he continued, running his eye over the slight but athletic figure of his friend.
"Fit! Never fitter, not even in the old days when I used to pass the pigskin to you out of the scrimmage.

But you?
You're hardly up to the mark." The keen gray eyes searched Cameron's face.

"What's up with you ?" "Oh, nothing.

A little extra work and a little worry, but I'll tell you later." "Well, what are you on to now ?" inquired Martin.
"Ordering our supper.

We've just come in from a hundred and fifty miles' drive." "Supper?
Your wife here too?
Glory! It's up to me, old boy! Look here, Connolly," he turned to the proprietor behind the bar, "a bang-up supper for three.