I--hate your straight legs--Oh, My God!" he whispered, shuddering, and closed his eyes.

When he opened them his smile was ghastly.
"Kenny," he said with a pitiful air of bravado, "do you know a tune, an Irish tune called 'Eileen Aroon' ?" "Yes," said Kenny, clearing his throat.

"Yes." "Whistle it." Kenny obeyed.

His eyes were sympathetic, "Well," said Adam in muffled tones, "it isn't Irish.

It's Robin Adair and it came from Scotland." But his voice was tired.
Kenny rummaged in the closet for his brandy.
"There are times," said Adam queerly, "when you've an open-hearted, understanding way about you.