"Fitzgerald ?" came the query, in a whisper.
"Yes.

For God's sake, is this you, Breitmann ?" "Sh! Not so loud! What are you doing here ?" "And you ?" "Listen! It has stopped.

He has heard our scuffling." "It seems, then, that we are both here for the same purpose ?" said Fitzgerald, pulling down his cuffs, and running his fingers round his collar.
"Yes.

You came too late or too soon." Breitmann stooped, and ran his hands over the rug.
The other saw him but dimly.

"What's the matter ?" "I have lost one of my studs," with the frugal spirit of his mother's forebears.