"It is if you let things slide as they stand," says I.
"Eh?" says he, sort of eager. "You mean that she—that if——"
"Say," I breaks in, "do you want it straight from a rank amateur? Then here goes. You don't gen'rally wait to have things handed to you on a tray, do you? You ain't that kind. You go after 'em. And the harder you want 'em the quicker you are on the grab. You don't stop to ask whether you deserve 'em or not, either. You just stretch your fingers and sing out, 'Hey, that's mine!' And if somebody or something's in the way, you give 'em the shoulder. Well, that's my dope in this case. You ain't goin' to get a young lady like Miss Hampton by doin' the long-distance mope. You got to buck up. Rush her off her feet!"
"By Jove, though, Torchy," says he, bangin' his fist down on the table, "I believe you're right! And I do want her. I've been afraid to say it, that's all. But now——"
He squares his shoulders and sets his jaw solid.
"That's the slant!" says I. "And the sooner the quicker, you know."
"Yes, yes!" says he, jumpin' up. "Tonight! I—I'll write to her at once."
"Ah, squiffle!" says I, indicatin' deep disgust.
Mr. Robert gazes at me astonished. "I beg pardon!" says he.
"Don't be a nut!" says I. "Excuse me if I seem to throw out any hints, but maybe letter writin' ain't your long suit. Is it?"