"I don't want them to lie all in a heap."

"They'll lie in heaps for a good long time, before you are out of
this country," Carew predicted cheerfully. "Moreover, from the look
of the place, you could make calls in either pajamas or khaki, and
it would pass muster. I saw one fellow, this noon, in evening
clothes and a collar button. Besides, there isn't anybody for us to
call on."

Weldon smiled contentedly, as he drew out a frock-coat and inspected
its satin-faced lapels.

"Not for you, perhaps," he observed quietly.

"Oh, I see." Carew puffed vigorously. "So you have a bidding to call
upon Miss Dent."

Weldon dislodged Carew's feet from the extra chair and utilized the
chairback as a temporary coat-rack.

"No; quite the contrary," he replied. "I am invited to call upon
Miss Ophelia Arthur. Now you will please to keep quiet, for I think
I shall go to bed."

In silence, Carew watched him half through the process of
undressing. Then, emptying his pipe and snapping open its case, he
rose and faced his friend.

"Weldon," he said sententiously; "we don't care to hang around this