"Secret! What secret?"

"The secret of preserving so much of boyish freshness in the wear and tear
of man-like passions and man-like thoughts."

"You are still young yourself,--under forty?"

"Oh, yes! some years under forty."

"And Nature gave you a grander frame and a finer symmetry of feature than
she bestowed on me."

"Pooh! pooh! You have the beauty that must charm the eyes of woman, and
that beauty in its sunny forenoon of youth. Happy man! if you love and
wish to be sure that you are loved again."

"What you call love--the unhealthy sentiment, the feverish folly--left
behind me, I think forever, when--"

"Ay, indeed,--when?"

"I came of age!"

"Hoary cynic! and you despise love! So did I once. Your time may come."

"I think not. Does any animal, except man, love its fellow she-animal as
man loves woman?"

"As man loves woman? No, I suppose not."