"But life isn't a game, Edgar."
He opened his eyes at her and grimaced scornfully.
"The grave and reverend senior again; nearly ready to graduate, and inform the world that
'Life is real, life is earnest,
And the grave is not its goal!'
Might as well be in the grave at once as dig and grind the days away. Heaven help us when you get home! I suppose you must go through the fine-spun theory stage like the usual attack of measles."
"Measles are catching," remarked Kathleen quietly.
"Exactly! but I'm mighty glad I'm immune from the know-it-all disease."
"That would mean that you'd had it, Edgar, and you never did have it; not even a rash. Open the window, please. We're a little blue in here."
Edgar threw open the unoffending window with a force that threatened the mechanism.