Poker, sir ?" "I--ah--believe so," said Berkley, lying back in his chair and closing his eyes.

"Go ahead and rub hell into me--if I'll hold any more." The pallor, the shadows under eyes and cheeks, the nervous lines at the corners of the nose, had almost disappeared when Burgess finished.

And when he stood in his evening clothes pulling a rose-bud stem through the button-hole of his lapel, he seemed very fresh and young and graceful in the gas-light.
"Am I very fine, Burgess?
Because I go where youth and beauty chase the shining hours with flying feet.

Oh yes, Burgess, the fair and frail will be present, also the dashing and self-satisfied.

And we'll try to make it agreeable all around, won't we?
.