“They should leave us old fellows at home,” he ventured.
“Perhaps, in most cases, the women would much prefer that.”
“Foreigner,” thought Harrigan. “Well, it does seem that the older we get the greater obstruction we become.”
“What is old age?” asked the thick but not unpleasant voice of the stranger.
“It’s standing aside. Years don’t count at all. A man is as young as he feels.”
“And a woman as old as she looks!” laughed the other.
“Now, I don’t feel old, and I am fifty-one.”
The man with the beard shot an admiring glance across the tabouret. “You are extraordinarily well preserved, sir. You do not seem older than I, and I am but forty.”
“The trouble is, over here you play cards all night in stuffy rooms and eat too many sauces.” Harrigan had read this somewhere, and he was pleased to think that he could recall it so fittingly.
“Agreed. You Americans are getting out in the open more than any other white people.”