Burlingame had intended sending Kitty out of town on an assignment during Easter week.
An exchange of telegrams that morning had closed the gap in time.
"Well, you might say 'Good morning.'" "I beg your pardon, Burly!" In newspaper offices you belong at once or you never belong; and to belong is to have your name sheared to as few syllables as possible.

You are formal only to the city editor, the managing editor, and the auditor.
"What's the matter ?" "I've been set in the middle of a fairy story," said Kitty, "and I'm wondering if it's worth the trouble to try to find a way out.

A Knight of the Round Table, a prince of chivalry.

What would you say if you saw one in spats and a black derby ?" "Why," answered Burlingame, "I suppose I'd consider July first as the best thing that could happen to me." Kitty laughed; and that was what he wanted.
What had that old rogue been doing now--offering Kitty his eighteen-story office building?
"It's odd, isn't it, that I shouldn't possess a little histrionic ability.

You'd think it would be in my blood to act." "It is, Kitty; only not to mimic.