on the Western front that was held by the British and finally
got up and went into the house and almost immediately prowled out alone
for a sulky walk along the beach.

Chortling as he watched him, although annoyed that he, himself, was not
going to have an opportunity of saying soft things to Joan for some
hours, Hosack made himself comfortable, lit another cigar and pondered
sleepily about what he called "the infatuation of Gilbert the precious."

"I can sympathize with the feller's being gone on the girl," he said to
himself, undisturbed by Regina's frequent bursts of loud laughter at
young Barclay's quiet but persistent banter, "but dammit, why make a
conspicuous ass of himself? Why make the whole blessed house party,
including his hostess, pay for his being turned down in favor of young
Harry? Bad form, I call it. Any one would imagine that he was engaged
to be married to Joan and therefore had some right to a monopoly by the
way he goes on, snarling at everybody and showing the whites of his
eyes like a jealous collie. Everybody's talking, of course, and making
jokes about him, especially as it's perfectly obvious that the harder
he hunts her the more she dodges him.... Curious chap, Gilbert. He goes
through life like the ewe lamb of an over-indulgent mother and when he
takes a fancy to a thing he can't conceive why everybody doesn't rush
to give it him, whatever the cost or sacrifice.... If young Harry
hadn't been here to keep her amused and on the move I wonder if Joan
would have been a bit kinder to our friend G. P.? She's been in a weird
mood, as perverse as April. I don't mind her treating me as if I was a
doddering old gentleman so long as she keeps Gilbert off.... A
charming, pretty, heart-turning thing. I'd give something to know the
real reason why that husband of hers lets her run loose this way. And
where's her mother, and why don't those old people step in?--such a
child as she is. Well, it's a pretty striking commentary on the way our
young people are brought up, there's no doubt about it. If she was my
daughter, now--but I suppose she'd tell me to go and hang myself if I
tried to butt in. Divorce and a general mess-up-the usual end, I take
it."

He shook his head, and his ash dropped all over his clothes and he
began to nod. He would have given a great deal to put his feet on a
chair and a handkerchief over his face and sink into a blissful nap.
The young people had gone off somewhere, and there we