nd liberal,
don't you think so?"

"Oh, I do!" Sitting on the hard little couch, she clasped her hands
beside her, leaned toward him, absorbed him; and in a glorious state of
being appreciated he proclaimed:

"So I up and said to the fellows at the club, 'Look here,' I--"

"Do you belong to the Union Club? I think it's--"

"No; the Athletic. Tell you: Course they're always asking me to join
the Union, but I always say, 'No, sir! Nothing doing!' I don't mind the
expense but I can't stand all the old fogies."

"Oh, yes, that's so. But tell me: what did you say to them?"

"Oh, you don't want to hear it. I'm probably boring you to death with my
troubles! You wouldn't hardly think I was an old duffer; I sound like a
kid!"

"Oh, you're a boy yet. I mean--you can't be a day over forty-five."

"Well, I'm not--much. But by golly I begin to feel middle-aged
sometimes; all these responsibilities and all."

"Oh, I know!" Her voice caressed him; it cloaked him like warm silk.
"And I feel lonely, so lonely, some days, Mr. Babbitt."

"We're a sad pair of birds! But I think we're pretty darn nice!"

"Yes, I think we're lots nicer than most people I know!" They smiled.
"But please tell me what you said at the Club."

"Well, it was like this: Course Seneca Doane is a friend of mine--they
can say what they want to, they can call him anything they please, but
what most folks here don't know is that Senny is the bosom pal of some
of the biggest statesmen in the world--Lord Wycombe, frinstance--you
know, this big British nobleman. My friend Sir Gerald Doak told me
that Lord Wycombe is one of the biggest guns in England--well, Doak or
somebody told me."

"Oh! Do you know Sir Gerald? The one that was here, at the McKelveys'?"

"Know him? Well, say, I know him just well enough so we call each other
George and Jerry, and we got so pickled together in Chicago--"

"That must have been fun. But--" She shook a finger at him. "--I can't
have you getting pickled! I'll have to take you in hand!"

"Wish you would! . . . Well, zize saying: You see I happen to know what
a big noise Senny Doane is outside of Zenith, but of course a prophet
hasn't got any honor in his own country, and Senny, darn his old hide,
he's so blame modest that he never lets folks know the kind of an outfit
he travels with when he goes abroad. Well, during the strike Clarence
Drum comes pee-rading up to our table, all dolled up fit to kill in his
nice lil cap'n's u