Ronal Kayser

“ Catlin made an apologetic gesture, an opening and falling of his hands. “I do not expect you to commit yourself,” he said hurriedly. “It does not matter. The thing is, I must get away. I need money. Clothes.” He looked despairingly at the slit trouser leg. “I can’t go far, like this.”
“It is not that,” Lung Wei said. “You will have to tell me exactly what happened. Otherwise—I am sorry. There would be nothing I could do.”
Catlin took a long pull at the cigarette.
“I know what you mean,” he muttered. “You are afraid. You needn’t be. They can’t trace me here. No one has seen me since I escaped. ”

“ Then he added, almost calmly, “But, as they did not see me, there is no danger from that source.”
“That is true,” said Lung Wei. He appeared to reflect; his pointed yellow chin rested upon the gathered collar of the brocade robe, and his eyes were lowered.
“Your cigarette,” he said at last.
“What did you say?” Catlin asked.
He stared at the screen, which had grown suddenly brighter, with a myriad of little colored glints flashing upon its shining surface. The candle in the background burned no better than before.... The gossamer seemed to quiver and glow with a luminous life of its own. ”

“ Catlin became confused. “I don’t know,” he stammered. “I can’t remember—the drug, you see—I suppose I took a street-car. It is quite a long way. I suppose that is what I did. I am perfectly sure no one noticed me, however it was.”
The Oriental said, “But it is important, young sir. Can’t you think?”
“I got there, anyway,” Catlin told him. ”

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