Humphrey gazed—wider awake now—at the wild figure before him. And a thrill stirred his heart. This boy was supposed to be crushed.
'How much have you done?' he asked soberly.
'Most finished this first one. It's about old Boice and Charlie Waterhouse and Mr Weston——'
'Gee!' said Humphrey.
'I call it, The Caliph of Simpson Street.'
'Well—see here, you're going to bed, aren't you?'
'Oh, yes. But listen.' And he began reading aloud.
Humphrey waved his arms.
'No, no! For heaven's sake, go to bed, Hen!'
'Well, but—oh, say! Just thought of something!' And he went out, chuckling.