"I couldn't sleep! I couldn't sleep!" he cried out instead, shrinking as from a lifted hand, though he was merely being shaken playfully to and fro.
"No more could I," said Stingaree.
"So I was going for a stroll. That was all, I swear, Mr.—Mr.—I don't know your name!"
"Quite sure?" said Stingaree.
"My oath! How should I?"
"You might have heard it down the road."
"Not me!"
"Yet you heard of me, you know."
"Not by name—my oath!"
Stingaree peered into the great face in which the teeth were chattering and from which all trace of color had flown.