``You're disappointed in him, too, I suppose,'' said Hull. ``I
knew you would be.''

``I thought he was tall,'' said Jane.

``Only middling,'' replied Hull, curiously delighted.

``I thought he was serious,'' said Jane.

``On the contrary, he's always laughing. He's the best natured
man I know.''

As they descended and started along the carpet under the middle
of the awning, Jane halted. She glanced toward the dripping
figure whom the police would not permit under the shelter. Said
she: ``I want one of those papers.''

Davy moved toward the drenched distributor of strike literature.
``Give me one, Dorn,'' he said in his most elegant manner.

``Sure, Davy,'' said Dorn in a tone that was a subtle commentary
on Hull's aristocratic tone and manner. As he spoke he glanced
at Jane; she was looking at him. Both smiled--at Davy's expense.

Davy and Jane passed on in, Jane folding the dodger to tuck it
away for future reading. She said to him: ``But you didn't tell
me about his eyes.''

``What's the matter with them?''