"I should certainly get some new togs," Somers advised him. "Treat it as an investment."
"Of course, if you put it like that," Woodroffe said, with a grin.
"I'll take the responsibility of letting you squander your capital," Somers replied gravely.
"Facetious old dog, you!" Woodroffe returned. "Like to pretend I'm still in leading strings, don't you?"
"Lord, you're not ready for leading strings yet," Somers said. "Wait till you're weaned before you try to walk."
Woodroffe thumped him playfully on the chest.
"Oh! go to bed," Somers growled. "I'm going to try and snatch an hour before I'm fetched for Nellie Mason; if I am fetched. Personally, I shouldn't be surprised if it wasn't for another week yet."
"Dog's life, old man, a dog's life," Woodroffe commented as he left the room.
When he had gone Somers threw himself down with a groan into the arm-chair. "I wonder how long it'll be before he comes back?" he thought. "If he'll ever come back?"