r ale, for so arises a fatter and lustier bubblement of foam.
The reason whereof they leave no testament. While this portion of the
meal was under discussion their minds moved free, unpinioned, with airy
lightness, over all manner of topics. It seemed no effort at all to
talk. Ripe, mellow with long experience of men and matters, their
comments were notable for wisdom and sagacity. The waiter, overhearing
shreds of their discourse, made a private notation to the effect that
these were Men of Large Affairs. Then they embarked upon some salty
crackers, enlivened with Camembert cheese and green-gage jam. By this
time they were touching upon religion, from which they moved lightly to
the poems of Louise Imogen Guiney. It is all quite distinct as one looks
back upon it.

[Illustration]

Issuing upon the street, Dactyl said something about going back to the
office, but the air and sunlight said him nay. Rather, remarked Spondee,
let us fare forward upon this street and see what happens. This is ever
a comely doctrine, adds the chronicler. They moved gently, not without a
lilac trailing of tobacco fume, across quiet stretches of pavement. In
the blue upwardness stood the tower of the Metropolitan Life Building, a
reminder that humanity as a whole pays its premiums with decent
regularity. They conned the nice gradations of tint in the spring
foliage of Gramercy Park. They talked, a little soberly, of thrift, and
of their misspent years.

Lexington Avenue lay guileless beneath their rambling footfalls. At the
corner of Twenty-second Street was a crowd gathered, and a man with the
customary reverted cap in charge of a moving picture machine. A swift
car drew up before the large house at the southeast corner. Thrill upon
thrill: something being filmed for the movies! In the car, a handsome
young rogue at the wheel, and who was this blithe creature in shiny
leather coat and leather cap, with crumpling dark curls cascading
beneath it? A suspicion tinkled in the breast of Spondee, in those days
a valiant movie fan. Up got the young man, and hopped out of the car. Up
stood the blithe creature--how neatly breeched, indeed, a heavenly
forked radish--and those shining riding boots! She dismounted--lifted
down (so unnecessarily it seemed) by the rogue. She stood there a moment
and Spondee was convinced. DOROTHY GISH, said he to Dactyl. Miss Gish
and her escort darted into the house, the camera man reeling busily. At
an upper window of