“I hadn’t thought of buying any new clothes,” said Kendall. But the idea, once presented, had attractions. He looked at the neat gray suit Ned was displaying and thought that he would like to see himself in it. Besides, he had never before really shopped for himself and the sudden realization of his independence was oddly exhilarating. He looked longingly at the clothes. Then he tentatively held a coat up to the light, Ned observing him out of the corners of his shrewd eyes.
“That one you’ve got there would look fine on you, Curt,” he said. “Why don’t you just slip it on?”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Kendall.
“Go ahead! There’s a room right back of you. Where are the trousers?”
“Those would be a little large for the gentleman,” said the clerk. “Just a moment, please.” In a jiffy he was back again and Kendall, almost before he realized it, was behind a curtain in a little closet-like apartment with the gray suit on his arm. When he emerged Ned exhibited the utmost enthusiasm:
“My word, Curt, but that suit was made for you! And fit! Why, it couldn’t be better, could it?” He appealed to the salesman.
“It would require almost no alteration,” replied the latter. “Perhaps the least bit off the sleeves. And the buttons might be set over a trifle.”
“It—it doesn’t look badly, does it?” murmured Kendall, turning and twisting in front of a long mirror.
“Bad! My dear misguided youth, it becomes you horribly! Don’t hesitate a minute; take it along!”
“Oh, but—but—I hadn’t thought of buying!” explained Kendall.