back, that Moses, who hated to be hurried as only his race can hate,
stood helpless, knowing only that something had happened, something
he did not understand.

"Did you say your riding-clothes, sir?" he asked, holding a
dress-shirt in his hand. "Or did you say--"

"I don't know what I said." Laine knocked over a box of
handkerchiefs and threw a white vest on the bed. "Where are my
shaving things? I told you I didn't want a trunk. Take the durned
thing away. I'll break my neck over it! Where is that English
bag--the big one? Get it, will you, and put in my riding-clothes,
evening clothes, and one other suit; put in the things I need.
You've packed it often enough. Call up Jerdone's private number, and
tell him I want all the flowers he's got. Get a move on you, Moses.
If you're paralyzed tell me; if not--"

"No, sir. I ain't paralyzed. I just demoralized. Suddenness always
did upset me. At dinner you look like you just as lief be dead as
livin', and now--"

"You or I will be dead if I miss that twelve-thirty train. Have you
called the cab?"

"No, sir. I ain't called no cab. You ain't never call the word cab.
You mean--" Moses's hands dropped limply at his side. "You mean
you're goin' away for Christmas?"

"That's what I mean!" Laine's voice was exultant, revealing, and he
coughed to hide its ring. "By the way, Moses, why don't you go home