"Shan't forget this, Wutz."
"Oh, for me--all you haf done--" The outcast turned away, shaking his
head sadly.
Never did Heywood's fat water-jar glisten more welcome than when he
gained the vaulted bath-room. He ripped off his blood-stained clothes,
scrubbed the sacrificial clots from his hair, and splashed the cool
water luxuriously over his exhausted body. When at last he had thrown a
kimono about him, and wearily climbed the stairs, he was surprised to
see Rudolph, in the white-washed room ahead, pacing the floor and
ardently twisting his little moustache. As Heywood entered, he wheeled,
stared long and solemnly.
"I must wait to tell you." He stalked forward, and with his sound left
hand grasped Heywood's right. "This afternoon, you--"
"My dear boy, it's too hot. No speeches."
But Rudolph's emotion would not be hindered.
"This afternoon," he persisted, with tragic voice and eyes, "this
afternoon I nearly was killed."
"So was I.--Which seems to meet that." And Heywood pulled free.
"Oh," cried Rudolph, fervently. "I know! I feel--If you knew what I--My
life--"
The weary stoic in the blue kimono eyed him very coldly, then plucked
him by the sleeve.
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