"I hope you didn't propose to more than six girls."
"To none. But I love them all together."
"I'm glad to hear it, because you're entirely too young to marry, and your occupation is precarious."
"You needn't be so preachy. You're not more'n a hundred years old yourself."
"But I'm two months older than you are and often two months makes a vast difference, particularly in our cases. I notice about you, Harry, at times, a certain juvenility which I feel it my duty to repress."
"Don't do it, George. Let's enjoy it while we can, because as you say my occupation is precarious and yours is the same."
They stopped at the corner of the iron fence enclosing the Curtis home, in which many lights were still shining. It was near a dark alley opening on the street and running by this side of the house.
"I'm going to see what's behind Mr. Curtis's house," said Harry.
Dalton stared at him.
"What's got into your head, Harry!" he exclaimed. "Do you mean to be a burglar prowling about the home of the man who has entertained you?"