Your clothes are in order." "Poor Burgess! That was your amusement, wasn't it ?--to see me go out discreetly perfumed, in fine linen and purple, brave as the best of them in club and hall, in ballroom and supper room, and in every lesser hell from Crystal Palace cinders to Canal.
"Poor Burgess! Even the seventy-five pretty waitresses at the Gaities would turn up their seventy-five retrousse noses at a man with pockets as empty as mine." "Your clothes are fashionable.

So is your figger, sir." "That settles it ?" protested the young fellow, weak with laughter.
"Burgess, _don't_ go! Don't _ever_ go! I do need you.

Oh I _do_ want you, Burgess.

Because there never will be anybody exactly like you, and I've only one life in which to observe you, study you, and mentally digest you.

You _won't_ go, will you ?" "No sir," said Burgess with dignity..