'And the next?'
'Station Number Two, and so on to Eight, I think.'
'And wasn't it worth while to name even one of these stations from some man, living or dead, who had something to do with making the line?'
'Well, they didn't, anyhow,' said another ghost. 'I suppose they didn't think it worth while. Why? What do you think?'
'I think, I replied, 'it is the sort of snobbery that nations go to Hades for.'
Her headlight showed at last, an immense distance off; the economic electrics were turned up, the ghosts vanished, the dragomans of the various steamers flowed forward in beautiful garments to meet their passengers who had booked passages in the Cook boats, and the Khartoum train decanted a joyous collection of folk, all decorated with horns, hoofs, skins, hides, knives, and assegais, which they had been buying at Omdurman. And when the porters laid hold upon their bristling bundles, it was like MacNeill's Zareba without the camels.
Two young men in tarboushes were the only people who had no part in the riot. Said one of them to the other:
'Hullo?'
Said the other: 'Hullo!'
They grunted together for a while. Then one pleasantly: