absent-minded. You are quite justified, sir--perfectly justified. Indeed,
I am indebted to you. The thing shall end. And now, sir, I have already
brought you farther than I should have done."

"I do hope my impertinence--"

"Not at all, sir, not at all."

We regarded each other for a moment. I raised my hat and wished him a good
evening. He responded convulsively, and so we went our ways.

At the stile I looked back at his receding figure. His bearing had changed
remarkably, he seemed limp, shrunken. The contrast with his former
gesticulating, zuzzoing self took me in some absurd way as pathetic. I
watched him out of sight. Then wishing very heartily I had kept to my own
business, I returned to my bungalow and my play.

The next evening I saw nothing of him, nor the next. But he was very much
in my mind, and it had occurred to me that as a sentimental comic
character he might serve a useful purpose in the development of my plot.
The third day he called upon me.

For a time I was puzzled to think what had brought him. He made
indifferent conversation in the most formal way, then abruptly he came to
business. He wanted to buy me out of my bungalow.

"You see," he said, "I don't blame you in the least, but you've
destroyed a habit, and it disorganises my day. I've walked past here for
years--years. No doubt I've hummed.... You've made all that impossible!"