"You feel aflaid?"
The fingers about his wrist clattered bonily together; then clinched themselves anew.
"Yes," she whispered. "I guess that's it. I guess I'm afraid."
For a moment he thought of the lateness of the hour.
"I'm velee solee," he said. "I'm solee, but I must be going."
"You can't leave me;" she stuttered behind her shut teeth. "You ain't got the heart to leave me all alone on a night like this."
"You can go to your home;" and he thought of the drunkard who had gone to his home. Surely the night sheltered strange creatures. "Les, you better go on to your home."
She laughed.
He had never thought of one of his little Chinese gods with their crooked faces laughing; but as he heard her he knew that their mirth would sound like that. Sound as though all the gladness had been killed; choked out of it, leaving only the harsh echoes that mocked and mocked.
"Gee, mister—; I ain't got no place to go."