Now he is a cityside reporter being shifted from beat to beat, learning the ropes, learning Chicago, upward bound.

Nicholas and his black-masked companions waited with feet planted apart as the dungeon master fumbled for his key ring.

And of Achilles with his queynte spere, / For he koude with it bothe heele and dere […].

Not that my wife is an inveterate gambler; as a matter of fact the poor kid hasn't any card sense at all and doesn't even care for it. She only piked along because I—I compelled her to.