I loved her like hell. . . . She was awfully sweet/’ he added regretfully; “I wish she was n’t so cold.”
“Hard luck, old man,” said Carl consolingly, “hard luck. Guess you picked an iceberg.”
For a few minutes the room was quiet except for the crackling of the fire, which was beginning to burn low. The shadows were creeping up on the boys; the flames were less merry.
Carl took his pipe out of his mouth and drawled softly, “I had better luck.” Hugh pricked up his ears. “You have n’t really fallen in love, have you?” he demanded eagerly. Carl had often said that he would never fall in love, that he was “too wise” to women.
“No, I didn’t fall in love; nothing like that. I met a bunch of janes down at Bar Harbor. Some of them I’d known before, but I met some new ones, too. Had a damn good time. Some of those janes certainly could neck, and they were ready for it any time. Gee, if the old lady had n’t been there, I’d ’a’ been potted about half the time. A.s it was, I drank enough gin and Scotch to float a battle-ship. Well, the old lady had to go to Mew York on account of some business; so I went down to Christmas Cove to visit some people I imow there. Christmas Cove’s a nice place; not jo high-hat as Bar Harbor, but still it’s a nice Dlace.” Hugh felt that Carl was leaving the main track,
