She was a clever girl--clever beyond her years, perhaps--though in this day seventeen is not far from fully developed womanhood.

But even had she been silly, men would have been glad to linger on and on under the spell of the sex call which nature had subtly woven into the texture of her voice, into the glance of her eyes, into the delicate emanations of her skin.
They talked of all manner of things--games and college East and West--the wonders of New York--the weather, finally.

Sam was every moment of the time puzzling how to bring up the one subject that interested both above all others, that interested him to the exclusion of all others.

He was an ardent student of the game of man and woman, had made considerable progress at it--remarkable progress, in view of his bare twenty years.

He had devised as many "openings" as an expert chess player.