"By being yourself. Don't let go of your ideals no matter what
Minott or anybody else says. Let him go his way and do you keep on
in yours. Don't ... but I can't talk here. Come and see me. I mean
it."
Breen's eyes glistened. "When?"
"To-morrow night, at my rooms. Here's my card. And you, too, Mr.
Minott--glad to see both of you." Garry has just joined them.
"Thanks awfully," answered Minott. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Grayson,
but I'm booked for a supper at the Magnolia. "Lot of the fellows
want to whoop up this--" and he held the finger bearing the ring
within an inch of Peter's nose. "And they want you, too, Jack."
"No, please let me have him," Peter urged. Minott, I could see, he
did not want; Breen he was determined to have.
"I would love to come, sir, and it's very kind of you to ask me.
There's to be a dance at my uncle's tomorrow night, though I
reckon I can be excused. Would you--would you come to see me
instead? I want you to see my father's portrait. It's not you, and
yet it's like you when you turn your head; and there are some
other things.
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