Paul and Lloyd seemed born to rivalry with each other, and I to be peacemaker between them.
If Paul memorized one canto of "Marmion," Lloyd memorized two cantos, Paul came back with three, and Lloyd again with four, till each knew the whole poem by heart.
Lloyd Inwood, entering at the same time, elected to take the same course.
Lloyd met her first, but within twenty-four hours Paul saw to it that he also made her acquaintance.
In the end she solved the problem in her own way, to everybody's satisfaction except Paul's and Lloyd's.
This left me free to my own affairs, and I was out among my roses when Lloyd Inwood arrived.
I saw Lloyd's face drop, but he answered sneeringly, "I can carry a sunshade, you know." Then he turned suddenly and fiercely upon him.
Lloyd Inwood, after prolonged and unintermittent application, when the tension upon his mind and body became too great to bear, had a strange way of obtaining relief.
I was for crossing over to verify Lloyd's statement, but he restrained me.
"Were he perfectly black, you could sit alongside him and not see him," Lloyd said; and I confess the illustration was apt enough to make me well-nigh convinced.
I visited Lloyd's laboratory a number of times after that, and found him always deep in his search after the absolute black.
Lloyd blunders up against the shadow with his perfect opaqueness.