The fact is that Ardmore was exceedingly shy, and a considerable experience of fashionable society had not diminished this shortcoming. Griswold, on the other hand, had the Virginian’s natural social instinct, but he suffered from a widely-diffused impression that much learning had made him either indifferent or extremely critical where women are concerned.
Ardmore shrugged his shoulders and fumbled in his coat pockets as though searching for ideas. An austere composure marked his countenance at all times, and emphasized the real distinction of his clean-cut features. His way of tilting back his head and staring dreamily into vacancy had established for him a reputation for stupidity that was wholly undeserved.
“Please limit the discussion to the present world, Professor.”
When Ardmore was displeased with Griswold he called him Professor, in a withering tone that disposed of the academic life.
“We shall limit it to New Orleans or the universe, as you like.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Grissy. You don’t take this matter in the proper spirit. I’m going to find that girl, I tell you.”
“I want you to find her, Ardy, and throw yourself at her feet. Be it far from me to deprive you of the joy of search. I thoroughly admire your resolute spirit. It smacks of the old heroic times. Nor can I conceal from you my consuming envy. If a girl should flatter me with a wink, I should follow her thrice round the world. She should not elude me anywhere in the Copernican system. If it were not the nobler part for you to pursue alone, I should forsake my professorship and buckle on my armour and follow your standard—
With the winking eye
For my battle-cry.”
And Griswold hummed the words, beating time with his stick, much to Ardmore’s annoyance.