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Lovely blue-eyed girly-girl kind of girl colored hair," he swept his hand descriptively over his own black locks. "Wears sort of skirts, you know you 'member the kind. All of 'em same thing well, she wears 'em too. Tha's all," and he dropped heavily back to the truck and retired into his coat collar. Rex shook him. "That won't do, Billy. I can't pick out a girl on that.
"Oh, tha's all right," Billy agreed easily. "You meet girl tell her you got me drunk," and he turned over and prepared for slumber. Strenuous argument was necessary to rouse him even to half a sense of responsibility. "Recky, dear, you 'noy me," he said with severity, coming to a sitting position and contemplating Rex with mild displeasure. "What kin' girl? Why, jes' girly-girl.
Billy Fenelby, after having been heroized by innumerable girls during his college years, had become definitely a man's man, and was in the habit of saying that his girly-girl days were over, and that he would walk around a block any day to escape meeting a girl. He was not afraid of girls, and he did not hate them, but he simply held that they were not worth while.
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