As if their souls mattered.

I've heard more about Art and seen less of her in the last six months than in the whole of my life.

Do you remember Cassavetti, who worked for some continental syndicate, out with the desert column?
He was a regular Christmas-tree of contraptions when he took the field in full fig, with his water-bottle, lanyard, revolver, writing-case, housewife, gig-lamps, and the Lord knows what all.

He used to fiddle about with 'em and show us how they worked; but he never seemed to do much except fudge his reports from the Nilghai.

See ?' 'Dear old Nilghai! He's in town, fatter than ever.