His air of excitement, said Hughie who talked endlessly of dots, dug and dreamed them, kept them all upon their toes.
At nightfall of the third day when Kenny's hatred of dots was approaching a frenzy and a ballet of spades danced with horrible rhythm through his dreams, the package came from Garry.

Kenny took it with a careless whistle and went slowly up the stairs.
The closing of his bedroom door transformed him.

He found matches and a lamp and marveled at the erratic pounding of his heart.

It was a muffled beat of triumph.

Mad laughter, tender and joyous, lurked perilously in his throat.