Just on the eve of triumph to be stricken down--it's so cruel, so
devilish! And to think of the horrible comic-weekly misery of it,
caught kissing a girl, by a policeman and his sweetheart, the
chambermaid! Ugh! The vulgar ridicule--the hideous laughter!" He
raised his hands to me, the most grovelling figure of a man I ever
saw.

"Oh, for God's sake, help me, help me...."

Well, sir, it was sickening enough, but after he had gone, and I
tumbled into bed again, I thought of Gorgett and laughed myself to
sleep with admiration.

When Farwell and I got to Gorgett's office, fairly early the next
morning, Lafe was sitting there alone, expecting us, of course, as I
knew he would be, but in the same characteristic, lazy attitude I'd
found him in, the day before; feet up on the desk, hat-brim tilted
'way forward, cigar in the right-hand corner of his mouth, his hands
in his pockets, his double-chin mashing down his limp collar. He
didn't even turn to look at us as we came in and closed the door.

"Come in, gentlemen, come in," says he, not moving. "I kind of thought
you'd be along, about this time."

"Looking for us, were you?" I asked.

"Yes," said he. "Sit down."

We did; Farwell looking pretty pale and red-eyed, and swallowing a
good deal.