De roughnecks belongs on de
Bowery, so dat's wot we'll call my dump down by de river.
You're a highbrow, so youse gotta live on Riverside Drive,
see?" and the mucker laughed at his little pleasantry.
But the girl did not laugh with him. Instead she looked
troubled.
"Wouldn't you rather be a 'highbrow' too?" she asked,
"and live up on Riverside Drive, right across the street from
me?"
"I don't belong," said the mucker gruffly.
"Wouldn't you rather belong?" insisted the girl.
All his life Billy had looked with contempt upon the hated,
pusillanimous highbrows, and now to be asked if he would
not rather be one! It was unthinkable, and yet, strange to
relate, he realized an odd longing to be like Theriere, and Billy
Mallory; yes, in some respects like Divine, even. He wanted to
be more like the men that the woman he loved knew best.
"It's too late fer me ever to belong, now," he said ruefully.
"Yeh gotta be borned to it. Gee! Wouldn't I look funny
in wite pants, an' one o' dem dinky, little 'Willie-off-de-yacht'
lids?"
Even Barbara had to laugh at the picture the man's words
raised to her imagination.
"I didn't mean that," she hastened to explain. "I didn't
mean that you must necessarily dress like them; but BE like
them--act like them--talk like them, as Mr.
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