"In heaven's name, what if it does? Say, young woman, do you think I am one of these cholly boys?" "No, Billie; but then, you know----" "Well, if you don't take me for some kind of a Willie, give us peace on this blasted glove business!" "I didn't mean----" "Well, you've been intimating that I've got the only pair of gray gloves in the universe, but you are wrong. There are several pairs, and these need not be preserved as unique in history." "They're not gray. They're----" "They are gray! I suppose your distinguished ancestors in Ireland did not educate their families in the matter of gloves, and so you are not expected to----" "Billie!" "You are not expected to believe that people wear gloves only in cold weather, and then you expect to see mittens." On the stairs, in the darkness, he suddenly exclaimed, "Here, look out, or you'll fall!" He reached for her arm, but she evaded him. Later he said again: "Look out, girl! What makes you stumble around so? Here, give me the bottle of wine. I can carry it all right. There--now can you manage?" CHAPTER XXIV. "Penny," said Grief, looking across the table at his friend, "if a man thinks a heap of two violets, how much would he think of a thousand violets?" "Two into a thousand goes five hundred times, you fool!" said Pennoyer. "I would answer your question if it were not upon a forbidden subject." In the distance Wrinkles and Florinda were making Welsh rarebits. "Hold your tongues!" said Hawker. "Barbarians!" "Grief," said Pennoyer, "if a man loves a woman better than the whole universe, how much does he love the whole universe?" "Gawd knows," said Grief piously. "Although it ill befits me to answer your question." Wrinkles and Florinda came with the Welsh rarebits, very triumphant. "There," said Florinda, "soon as these are finished I must go home. It is after eleven o'clock.--Pour the ale, Grief." At a later time, Purple Sanderson entered from the world. He hung up his hat and cast a look of proper financial dissatisfaction at the remnants of the feast. "Who has been----" "Before you breathe, Purple, you graceless scum, let me tell you that we will stand no reference to the two violets here," said Pennoyer. "What the----" "Oh, that's all right, Purple," said Grief, "but you were going to say something about the two violets, right then. Weren't you, now, you old bat?" Sanderson grinned expectantly. "What's the row?" said he. "No row at all," they told him. "Just an agreement to keep you from chattering obstinately about the two violets." "What two violets?" "Have a rarebit, Purple," advised Wrinkles, "and never mind those maniacs." "Well, what is this business about two violets?" "Oh, it's just some dream. They gibber at anything." "I think I know," said Florinda, nodding. "It is something that concerns Billie Hawker." Grief and Pennoyer scoffed, and Wrinkles said: "You know nothing about it, Splutter. It doesn't concern Billie Hawker at all."