Where have you been?
Were you dead?
Why didn't you write?
Has the world used you well?
Sit down, Mr.John Wesley Also-Ran Pringle, and give an account of yourself!" He sat beside her: she laid her hand across his gnarled brown fingers with an unconscious caress.
"It's good to see you, old-timer! Begin now--I, John Wesley Pringle, am come from going to and fro upon the earth and from walking up and down in it.

But I didn't ask you where you were living.

Perhaps you have a--home of your own now." John Wesley firmly lifted her slim fingers from his hand and as firmly deposited them in her lap.
"Kindly keep your hands to yourself, young woman," he said with stately dignity.
"Here is an exact account of all my time since I saw you: I have been hungry, thirsty, sleepy, tired.

To remedy these evils, upon expert advice I have eaten, drunk, slept, and rested.

I have worked and played, been dull and gay, busy and idle, foolish and unwise.
That's all.