And if so, then what was there to talk about?
Occasionally, however, some stranger spoke curious things never heard of in the suburb.

The men did not argue with him, but listened to his odd speeches with incredulity.

His words aroused blind irritation in some, perplexed alarm in others, while still others were disturbed by a feeble, shadowy glimmer of the hope of something, they knew not what.
And they all began to drink more in order to drive away the unnecessary, meddlesome excitement.
Noticing in the stranger something unusual, the villagers cherished it long against him and treated the man who was not like them with unaccountable apprehension.

It was as if they feared he would throw something into their life which would disturb its straight, dismal course.

Sad and difficult, it was yet even in its tenor.