"I've a mind to make you wear it. And, by Jove, you shall! You'll
wear it to the hatter's, or stay here. That's final. I never back
down, either."

"I'll wear it; only, mark me, I'll get even with you. I always did."

"_I_ am not a boy any longer,"--with an inflection on the
personal pronoun. "Well, to continue about that excuse. You left the
house without a hat, and you met the boys and played poker all night.
That hitches wonderfully. You didn't feel well enough to go to the
embassy, but you could go and play poker. That sounds as if you cared
a lot for your sister. And you wanted to stay at home the first
night, because you had almost forgotten how the inside of a private
dwelling looked. Very good; very coherent."

"Cut it, Chuck. What the deuce excuse _can_ I give?"--worriedly
lighting the cigar I had given him.

"My boy, I'm not making up your excuses; you'll have to invent those.
I'll be silent, but I refuse to lie to Nancy on your account. Poker
is the only excuse that would carry any weight with it. You will have
to let them believe you're a heartless wretch; which you are, if you
persist in this idiotic exploit."

"You don't understand, Chuck. I wish I could tell you; honestly, I
do. The girls will have to think mean things of me till the farce is
over. I couldn't escape if I wanted to."

"Is it Miss Annesley, Bob? Was it she whom you ran away with? Come,