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“I need to ask you something.”“What’s up,” the five-eleven, deep-brown guy from Indianapolis braced himself.“Will you be my best man?”�...You serious?”“As a heart attack, mane!”“You don’t wanna ask one of your frats? Or, your actual brother?”“He’s too young. Everybody knows we’re tight. Whitney’s good with it!”“Then, yeah! Yeah I can do that!”“Thanks! What you about to do?”“Chapter meeting. Then, do some work in the lab. I’ll be back around 11:00 or so.”“Bet. Keep that ass tight for me!”“You got. .."He stooped over Florence, whom he was holding so firmly in his arms that nobody could have taken her from him. Their eyes met. His face was close to the girl's. He quivered with emotion at feeling her throbbing, so weak, so utterly helpless; and he said to her passionately, in a voice too low for any but her to hear:"I love you, I love you ... Ah, Florence, if you only knew what I feel: how I suffer and how happy I am! Oh, Florence, I love you, I love you..."Weber had stood aside, at a sign. More

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