No speeches." But Rudolph's emotion would not be hindered.
"This afternoon," he persisted, with tragic voice and eyes, "this afternoon I nearly was killed." "So was I .-- Which seems to meet that." And Heywood pulled free.
"Oh," cried Rudolph, fervently.

"I know! I feel--If you knew what I--My life--" The weary stoic in the blue kimono eyed him very coldly, then plucked him by the sleeve.--"Come here, for a bit." Both men leaned from the window into the hot, airless night.

A Chinese rebeck wailed, monotonous and nasal.

Heywood pointed at the moon, which now hung clearly above the copper haze.
"What do you see there ?" he asked dryly.
"The moon," replied his friend, wondering.
"Good .-- You know, I was afraid you might just see Rudie Hackh." The rebeck wailed a long complaint before he added:-- "If I didn't like you fairly well--The point is--Good old Cynthia! That bally orb may not see one of us to-morrow night, next week, next quarter.

'Through this same Garden, and for us in vain.' Every man Jack.
Let me explain.