The last time I saw her I was half crazy." He held out his hand, a dirty, knubbly, ragged-nailed hand--the hand that was once so irritatingly manicured.
"Good-bye, Major.

You won't shut the door on me now, will you ?" I wrung his hand hard and bade him not be silly, and, looking up at him, said: "What was the other thing quite different you were intending to do before you, let us say, quarreled with Phyllis ?" He hesitated, his forehead knit in a little web of perplexity.
"Whatever it was," I continued, "let us have it.

I'm your oldest friend, a sort of father.

Be frank with me and you won't regret it.

The splendid work you've done has wiped out everything." "I'm afraid it has," said he ruefully.