Mittyford, scholarship and eye-glasses
and Shelley and all, without mercy.
"Yes, he was awfully funny. Gee! I didn't care much for him."
"Of course you know he's a great man, however?" Istra was as
bland as though she had meant that all along, which left Mr.
Wrenn nowhere at all when it came to deciding what she meant.
Without warning she rose from the steps, flung at him "G' night,"
and was off down the street.
Sitting alone, all excited happiness, Mr. Wrenn muttered: "Ain't
she a wonder! Gee! she's striking-lookin'! Gee whittakers!"
Some hours later he said aloud, tossing about in bed: "I wonder
if I was too fresh. I hope I wasn't. I ought to be careful."
He was so worried about it that he got up and smoked a
cigarette, remembered that he was breaking still another rule by
smoking too much, then got angry and snapped defiantly at his
suit-case: "Well, what do I care if I _am_ smoking too much?
And I'll be as fresh as I want to." He threw a newspaper at the
censorious suit-case and, much relieved, went to bed to dream
that he was a rabbit making enormously amusing jests, at which
he laughed rollickingly in half-dream, till he realized that he
was being awakened by the sound of long sobs from the room of
Istra Nash.
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