Philip nodded his head: “You know, Lester, we haven't had much to do with each other in some while.”
“I want to talk with you.”
“Well, go ahead, for it has just occurred to me that I promised to be home in time for supper.”
Lester turned a pair of bloodshot eyes full on Philip and asked: “You think I have been a fool, don't you?”
Philip shifted his feet uneasily. He felt that truth played such an insignificant part in the exercise of civility.
“You think I have been a fool?” Lester repeated.
“Before I answer that I'd like to know why you ask. You see the reason that prompts an inquiry is more than apt to determine its answer with me. I always wish to give satisfaction.”
“I ask because I'd like to know what you think of me. I don't suppose you have any sort of use for me. You don't know, Philip, how bad I have wanted some one to talk to for days and days—some one who is not like myself. And when I saw you to-night, I made up my mind that you should hear what I have to say. I can't keep it any longer—my head will burst if I do—can you listen?”
“Go ahead,—I'm listening.”
“For the most part it's nothing but what you know. It's just about my being such a fool. Yes, yes—and it's more than that!”