"According to the old democracy, yes. According to the new, distinguished people pay an income tax and common people don't. And you, a moment ago, before the valuation was completed, were a very common fellow, indeed."
"Mel, I had no idea that old junk was worth so much."
"You hadn't? Well, it's worth more. I'm getting a bargain. Thank the Lord you're a gentleman, so there's no danger of your backing out."
Jonstone seized his cousin's hand and pressed it affectionately.
"Mel," he said, "can you afford to do this thing? God knows the money will make all the difference in the world to me! But in taking it I don't feel any too noble."
"It was always ridiculous for me to be rich and for you to be poor. That's done with. I'm still rich, thank God!—and you're well-to-do. You can travel if you like, breed horses, install plumbing, burn coal, and marry."
"If I was sure that the silver would ever be turned up, I wouldn't feel so sheepish."
"As long as you don't look sheepish or act sheepish—suppose that now, after a slight fortification, we visit a tailor. It is necessary for you to dress according to your station in life."
Their first day in New York was immensely amusing to both of them. Meredith was coming back to it after a long absence; Jonstone was seeing it for the first time, and for the first time his pockets were full of money that he did not owe. Now, New York is one of the finest summer resorts in the world. Do not pity the poor business man who sends his family to the mountains for the hot weather, for while they are burned by the sun and fed an interminable succession of blueberry pies, he basks in the cool of electric fans and dines on the fat of the land. His business may worry him, but there is no earthly use in his attending to it. That is done for him. He can skip away when he pleases for an afternoon's golf or tennis. Somebody's motor is always going somewhere where there is pleasure to be found and laughter. The lights of Luna Park are brighter than the Bar Harbor stars, and the ocean which pounds upon Long Beach is just as salt as that which thunders against Great Head—and about twice as warm. For pure torture give me a swim anywhere north of Cape Cod. Merely to step into such water is like having one's foot bitten off by a shark.