"You won't lose any time on the novel, will you?" asked Gouger, anxiously, while these preparations were in progress. "You must take hold of it while the events are fresh in your mind."
"All right. I'll begin again to-morrow morning, and stick to the work till it's done. Where shall we go to supper? I'll tell you—Isaac Leveson's."
The critic could not conceal his surprise at the overturn that had taken place so suddenly in the young man's conduct. He stared at him with a look that approached consternation.
"You want to go there!" he exclaimed, unable to control himself. "You wish to dine with some pretty girl, eh?"
Roseleaf started violently.
"No, no! Not—yet!" he answered. "We can get a supper room without that appendix. I wish to be among men as mean as myself. I want to dine in a house full of people who would cut a woman's throat—or break her heart—and sleep soundly when they had done it!"