Then the man who held so large a place in the eyes of the world drew back, lifting his hat; the automobile started forward; the party called, "Good night." The woman's voice rose clear--so that the spectators might easily understand--"Remember, Mr.
Lagrange--I shall expect you Thursday--day after to-morrow." As Conrad Lagrange came up the hotel steps, the eyes of all were upon him; but he--apparently unconscious of the company--went straight to the artist; where, without a word, he dropped into the vacant chair by the young man's side, and began thoughtfully refilling his brier pipe.
Flipping the match over the veranda railing, and expelling a prodigious cloud of smoke, the novelist said grimly, "And there--my fellow artist--go your masters.

I trust you observed them with proper reverence.

I would have introduced you, but I do not like to take the initiative in such outrages.

That will come soon enough.

The young should be permitted to enjoy their freedom while they may." Aaron King laughed.