on David's mind to-night, for he pays no attention to the game,
neither gives advice (than which nothing is more maddening) nor
exchanges a wink with Alick over the parlous condition of James's
crown. You can hear the wag-at-the-wall clock in the lobby ticking.
Then David lets himself go; it runs out of him like a hymn:)

DAVID. Oh, let the solid ground Not fail beneath my feet, Before my
life has found What some have found so sweet.

[This is not a soliloquy, but is offered as a definite statement. The
players emerge from their game with difficulty.]

ALICK [with JAMES's crown in his hand]. What's that you're saying,
David?

DAVID [like a public speaker explaining the situation in a few well-chosen
words]. The thing I'm speaking about is Love.

JAMES [keeping control of himself]. Do you stand there and say you're
in love, David Wylie?

DAVID. Me; what would I do with the thing?

JAMES [who is by no means without pluck]. I see no necessity for
calling it a thing.

[They are two bachelors who all their lives have been afraid of
nothing but Woman. DAVID in his sportive days--which continue--has
done roguish things with his arm when conducting a lady home under an
umbrella from a soiree, and has both chuckled and been scared on