hastened to say.

"Let's sit down," said he, "and watch the people driving. We may
see somebody--somebody we know, you know, Sam."

"So we may," said I, and we sat down.

"A fellow," pursued George, with knitted brows, "is all turned
upside down, don't you know?"

"How very peculiar?" I exclaimed.

"One moment he's the happiest dog in the world, and the
next--well, the next, it's the deuce."

"But," I objected, "not surely without good reason for such a
change?"

"Reason? Bosh! The least thing does it."

I flicked the ash from my cigar.

"It may," I remarked, "affect you in this extraordinary way, but
surely it is not so with most people?"

"Perhaps not," George conceded. "Most people are cold-blooded
asses."

"Very likely the explanation lies in that fact," said I.