"Primped! You saw me, didn't you?"
"Well, you've got your clothes on; come on!"
Lawson ran his arm through his visitor's arm and they went singing across the quadrangle—
"Hark 'twas the Troubadour, breathing her name:
Under the battlement softly he came;
Singing 'from Palestine, hither I come;
Lady love, lady love, welcome me home.'"