"Georgie"
fiding air; then smiled in spite of my disgust.
"You needn't smile," cried he, "I lie awake thinking about the awfulness of everything, night after night, and I'm losing my appetite steadily, day by day. I hardly ever enjoy my meals now."
We had dined together the night before. I smiled again.
"If you only knew," said he, "what I feel, you would be sorry for a chap. You'd sympathize instead of standing there smiling in that beastly supercilious way."
"How on earth did you get into such a disgraceful position?" I asked in a more kindly tone. He was very young, and I was fond of him. Most people were, curiously enough. "You had better tell me all about it. Perhaps I might help you."
As his high spirits declined, my low ones, for some inexplicable reason, rose.
With obvious agitation, he pushed a big oily hand through his light hair.
"I hardly know," said he. "I've been
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