Also, it
is not a fragrant pastime. Hereafter I shall lunch here."
"It will be a pleasure to serve you," said that unusually--there I go
again! It was an unusually beautiful day in June. Which careful, exact,
and scientific statement, I think ought to cover the subject under
consideration.
After luncheon I sadly selected a five-cent cigar; and, as I hesitated,
lingering over the glass case, undecided still whether to give full rein
to this contemplated extravagance, I looked up and found her beautiful
grey eyes gazing into mine.
"What gentle thoughts are yours, Mildred?" I said softly.
"The cigar you have selected," she murmured, "is fly-specked."
Deeply touched that this young girl should have cared--that she should
have expressed her solicitude so modestly, so sweetly, concerning the
maculatory condition of my cigar, I thanked her and purchased, for the
same sum, a packet of cigarettes.
That was going somewhat far for me. I had never in all my life even
dreamed of smoking a cigarette. To a reserved, thoughtful, and scientific
mind there is, about a packet of cigarettes, something undignified,
something vaguely frolicsome.
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