Reggie shivered slightly and looked wistfully toward the door of the apartment. He coughed nervously.
"Sorry to seem rude," he said, laughing weakly, "but I've got to be toddling off now. It's been nice—er—running into you. There are magazines on the table, liquor in the ice box, so just make yourself at home."
He backed cautiously toward the door, smiling nervously.
"Don't wait up for me," he said. "I've—"
"Wait," the dark little man said quietly, "I must talk with you."
"Some other time," Reggie said, feeling behind him for the door knob. "Awfully rushed just now. Sorry but—"
"Wait!" the little man said again, but this time his voice cracked like a whip. "Didn't you hear me? I must talk with you?"
Reggie jumped at the cracking tone of the man's voice. His hand jerked away from the door knob as if it were red hot.
"Oh, you want to talk to me?" he said foolishly. "I didn't understand you."