Alpha Book

A little later he started for home at Selwyn's advice. But the memory of
his card losses frightened him, and he stopped on the way to see what
money Austin would advance him.
Julius Neergard came up from Long Island, arriving at the office about
noon. The weather was evidently cold on Long Island; he had the
complexion of a raw ham, but the thick, fat hand, with its bitten nails,
which he offered Selwyn as he entered his office, was unpleasantly hot,
and, on the thin nose which split the broad expanse of face, a bead or
two of sweat usually glistened, winter and summer.
"Where's Gerald?" he asked as an office-boy relieved him of his heavy
box coat and brought his mail to him.
"I advised Gerald to go home," observed Selwyn carelessly; "he is not
perfectly well."
Neergard's tiny mouse-like eyes, set close together, stole brightly in
Selwyn's direction; but they usually looked just a little past a man,
seldom at him.
"Grippe?" he asked.
"I don't think so," said Selwyn.


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