I met Alan's glance. Alan said: "Well, that's fine, Charlie. And you're better, aren't you?"
"Yes." He hesitated; then he added: "I'm better, and I'd like to help you get better. I was thinking that, last time I saw you. I like you—very much."
"Do you, Charlie? That's nice of you."
"Yes. You're a friend of mine—'Friends sturdy and true' I was thinking—that's us."
He turned suddenly away. He took a step toward the window, and came back. His face had wholly changed; a look of cunning was on it; his voice low, quivering, dramatic.
"You were looking out there when I came in. Strange things go on out there—but you can't see them in the daytime!"
"Can't you?" said Alan. "I was looking—"
"I've seen them—at night. I've got a way to see them any time I want to. From the roof. If you get put in here—I'll show you—maybe. Because we're friends."
It galvanized Alan into action. He jumped to his feet and gripped Charlie.