“Well,” I started off immediately, with decision, “you see, this Rudolph Habakkuk is a wealthy soap manufacturer. On Christmas day, when he is walking down Fifth Avenue, he is arrested—”
“Ah,” said Theodore. “Arson, or just for being a soap manufacturer?”
“I did not think you would interrupt,” I said solemnly. “He is arrested by a Chinaman's head.”
“Really,” said Theodore, “don't you think that's drawing the long bow a bit? Is it 'Alice in Wonderland' or a ghost-story?”
“He sees it on the pavement,” I pursued as well as I could. “It is entirely cut off. I mean it is decapitated, you know. The head is decapitated.”
“Yes,” answered Theodore, slowly, “I see. It would be, Heads get that way.”
“Well,” I said, “what do you think of it?”
“I haven't heard the story yet,” remarked Theodore.
“Oh,” I replied a trifle impatiently, I am afraid. “But that is the idea. The details are to be worked out later. Don't you think it's a striking idea?”
“I should say so,” said Theodore, rising; “almost too striking. Have another cocktail. They're good for what ails you.”