"What ails you, old man?" asked Frank, after they were seated in
Albert's room and were smoking fraternal pipes; "you look as if you had
lost your best friend."

"I did, last June, as you know," was the rather sad answer, "and on top
of that, I hate myself for one or two things; for instance, the escapade
we indulged in the other night, and being Frye's slave, for another."

"I am sorry for the first," responded Frank; "it was my fault that you
were coaxed into it. I won't do it again, I assure you. Don't worry over
it, my boy. It wasn't anything serious; only just a little after-theatre
fun, and hearing those sporty girls talk slang."

"Yes, and spending a lot of money for very poor fun," replied Albert. "I
don't think any better of myself for doing it, do you?"

"Oh, I don't think about it one way or the other," answered Frank, "I
have so much time to kill, and that's no worse than any other way. We
go to the theatre and see those same girls half nude and hear them say
just as naughty things as they said to us that night, so what's the
harm? We are a little nearer to them, that is all, and pay extra for the
privilege."

"Well, of course it's all right, and as you do not think any the less of
yourself for doing it, there is no harm," replied Albert, "only I do;
and so it is worse for me than for you." Then he added, looking
curiously at his friend, "Tell me honestly, Frank, did you enjoy having
cigarette smoke puffed in your face, being called 'Cully,' and hearing
silly brag about 'mashes,' and how they 'worked' some other fellow? Did
it occur to you that those same rouge-finished queens of the ballet
would describe us, and how they 'worked' us for a wine supper, to other
jays, and that no doubt they have done so to one or a dozen since that
night? They were pert and saucy, it is true, and up to date so far as
slang goes, but did you really enjoy their society?"

"No, I can't say I did," was the sober answer, "only there was a spice
of excitement about it, a sort of novelty. I would not want it every
night, however."

"And while I am about it," continued Albert, warming up, "did you notice
that those same fairies of the footlights had been so busy putting red
paint on their lips and black lead on their eyelashes that they forgot
to use a toothbrush, and left their fingernails in mourning? And what is
more to the point, was there one word they uttered that you and I could
not have fore-stalled long before it f