"Fine." Stover took a step or two, and then returned. "I put 'em to bed, didn't I?"
"You certainly did."
"Never 'fects me."
"You're a wonder."
"I thank you for your company."
"Good night."
Stover, intent only on making his entry, a hundred yards away, felt a roaring in his ears, and sudden jumble and confusion before him.
"Must get there—self-control—that's it, self-control," he said to himself, and by a supreme effort he reached his entry, pushed open the door, and, stumbling in out of Regan's vision, sat heavily down on the steps.
Some indistinct time after he beheld before him a little spectacled figure in pink pajamas.