“I do not; nor do I care for jelly with venison,” she answered readily.
“Admirable! You are clearly no child of convention but an independent thinker! May I smoke? Thanks!”
He drew out his pipe and turned beaming to the glowering Deering.
“There, my boy! Babette is one of us—one of the great company of the stars! Wonderful, how you find them at every turn! Babette, my sister, I salute you!”
She smiled and turned toward Deering.
“Are you, too, one of the Comrades of Perpetual Youth?” she inquired gravely.
“I am,” Deering declared heartily, and they smiled at each other; “but I’m only a novice—a brother of the second class.”
She shook her head.
“There can be no question of classes in the great comradeship—either we are or we are not.”
“Well spoken!” Hood assented, pushing back his chair and crossing his legs comfortably.