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Updated: May 10, 2025
The silk handkerchief, which protruded carefully from his breast pocket, also "dartled." So did the socks. One felt that the heart of this young man matched his tie and socks. It was resplendent with the vanity and hopefulness and illusions of twenty-two years. The large, dingy, chocolate-colored lobby became suddenly a background to Mr.
The ruddy lights dartled as he slowly turned the jewel around. "It is a beauty. No one but a rich man could have given a ring like that. And on your finger it means but one thing." "I am to be married in June." "Do you love him?" "I respect him; he is noble and good and kind." Warrington did not press the question. He still retained the hand, though he no longer gazed at the ring.
He had a nose, a chin, a beautiful mouth, large brown eyes, wavy chestnut hair, a ruddy complexion, and, what is not always given to the young man on the cover, a deep and generous dimple in the ruddiest part of his right cheek. He was dressed in the latest suit produced by Schaffner and Marx; he wore a tie of variegated silk which, like Browning's star, "dartled" now red, now blue.
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