“Aren’t we all just odds and ends of humanity —the left-overs, you know. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. "I can't say I do," replied Wood. "What of that," rejoined Jonathan. One must get them with exactly the same intensity. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone.
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