When you sit there with one lazy knee so leisurely draped over the other, and your eyes laughing at me through your cigar-smoke, about a million ideas flash up in me which I desire to discuss with you.

.

.

.

So you had better go." "I am happier here," he said, watching her.
"Really ?" "Really." "Then--then--am _I_, also, one of the 'good times' a man can have ?--when he is at liberty to reflect and choose as he idles over his coffee ?" "A man is fortunate if you permit that choice." "Are you serious?
I mean a man, not a boy--not a dance or dinner partner, or one of the men one meets about--everywhere from pillar to post.