Lady love, lady love—"
"Hello! What's the matter with you?" called some one through the door he had forgotten to close tightly, "it's time for practice."
"I'm getting ready; come in and wait."
The man entered. They had not been receiving many invitations to Lawson's rooms lately.
"What's the matter with you?" he repeated as he leaned against the mantel. "Good news?"
"Sure!" cried Lawson, slipping his sweater over his head.
The young fellow leaning against the mantel, though he was clad in full toggery of padded trousers and sweater and socks showing the University colors gaudily, was yet no comparison for Lawson, and they both knew it. Lawson was far and away the best-looking man on the eleven. The very garb served to show his fine physique and animal beauty, and with this look of flushed pleasure and full life—
"Come on," growled the visitor; "you've primped enough!"