Wait till he gets you at luncheon with him in the
grill-room, all by yourself--then you can find out what he is when he's
after game. Unless you're tied to the mast, so to speak, with your ears
stopped with wax, you'll land on the shore of the enchanted country he
pictures for you. He's deadly, I assure you. That's why he can afford to
live at the Amazon."
"I wonder how Althea likes it?" speculated Hepatica.
"Likes it down to the ground--and up to the roof," asserted the Skeptic.
"That's plain enough. It saves housekeeping--and picking up her room,"
he added softly to Hepatica--but I heard him. Hepatica did not reply.
"Let's not stop at this station," proposed the Skeptic as we walked on,
"but keep on up to the next. A fast walk will do us all good after that
feast of porpoises."
"I suppose they call that living," said the Philosopher, as we turned
aside into quieter streets.
"Of course they do, and so does everybody else at those tables
to-night--with four exceptions."
"Oh, come," demurred the Philosopher, "possibly there were a few other
wise men in that company besides ourselves.
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