pered him. What could it be? Something, he presumed, that had to do with erotics.
He had finished his second drink and was searching in vain for a waiter to pay, when he was startled by the sight of well-known faces, grotesque in this setting, and a shout of recognition. "Hey, fellahs, here's young Thanet, right in the middle of Paris France! Hot dog!"
Four Harvard classmates were surging towards him, led by Max Bruff, who made his way forward with ruthless unconcern of tables and chairs and elbows, to deposit a paternal and patronizing kiss on his bare head.
During the noisy installation of the four youths at his little table, a waiter who had made no response to Grover's mild proffer of money, came rapidly forward in answer to Max's compelling cry of "Gahsonne! Gahsonne! Words with thee—avee toi!"
"We been here two weeks," said Max. "Come on a cattle boat—like the Hamburg zoo, with the elephants and the wild kangaroo. Ponderby'll pay for the drinks so have another, his sire being a profiteer, and us being bums. Some town!"
As the whole four represented an element in his class he had instinctively avoided, Grover wondered why he was glad to see them. Lowbrows they were, to a man. But when one's own brow is so desperately high! he sighed.
