"Oh, it's going to be grimly glorious!--a depth of
darkness one can wade out into, and knead in his
hands like dough!" And he laughed, himself, at
this grotesque conceit.

And so we walked--for hours. Our talk--or,
rather, my friend's talk--lulled and soothed at last
into a calmer flow, almost solemn in its tone, and
yet fretted with an occasional wildness of utterance
and expression.

Half consciously I had been led by my companion,
who for an hour had been drawing closer to me
as we walked. His arm, thrust through my own,
clung almost affectionately. We were now in some
strange suburb of the city, evidently, too, in a low
quarter, for from the windows of such business
rooms and shops as bore any evidence of respectability
the lights had been turned out and the doors
locked for the night. Only a gruesome green light
was blazing in a little drug-store just opposite,
while at our left, as we turned the corner, a tumble-
down saloon sent out on the night a mingled
sound of clicking billiard-balls, discordant voices,
the harsher rasping of a violin, together with the
sullen plunkings of a banjo.

"I must leave you here for a minute," said my
friend, abruptly breaking a long silence, and loosening