And meantime I think he had managed to get out of me everything I knew about my trade, my tribe, my purposes, my prospects, and myself.

He was a gentle and persuasive genius, and this thing showed it; for I was not given to talking about my matters.

I said something about triangulation, once; the stately word pleased his ear; he inquired what it meant; I explained; after that he quietly and inoffensively ignored my name, and always called me Triangle.
What an enthusiast he was in cattle! At the bare name of a bull or a cow, his eye would light and his eloquent tongue would turn itself loose.

As long as I would walk and listen, he would walk and talk; he knew all breeds, he loved all breeds, he caressed them all with his affectionate tongue.

I tramped along in voiceless misery whilst the cattle question was up; when I could endure it no longer, I used to deftly insert a scientific topic into the conversation; then my eye fired and his faded; my tongue fluttered, his stopped; life was a joy to me, and a sadness to him.
One day he said, a little hesitatingly, and with somewhat of diffidence-- 'Triangle, would you mind coming down to my stateroom a minute, and have a little talk on a certain matter ?' I went with him at once.