Volume Three—Chapter One.
After Twelve Years—Back from a Voyage.
“Why, my dear Sir Gordon, I am glad to see you back again. You look brown and hearty, and not a day older.”
“Don’t—don’t shake quite so hard, my dear Bayle. I like it, but it hurts. Little gouty in that hand, you see.”
“Well, I’ll be careful. I am glad you came.”
“That’s right, that’s right. Come down to my club and dine, and we’ll have a long talk; and—er—don’t take any notice of the jokes if you hear any.”
“Jokes?”
“Ye-es. The men have a way there—the old fellows—of calling me ‘Laurel,’ and ‘Yew,’ and the ‘Evergreen.’ You see, I look well and robust for my age.”