For the last year or two Clara, his dear departed Clara, had been in constant communication with him, urging him to go out into the market-place, gather the people about him and tell them of the perils that lay ahead of them, the world rushing to perdition and ignorant of its ruin! The world, vicious, heedless . . . His voice was rising, the old man was now most definitely interested, the bald and hairy waiter, his bow-legs under their apron widely planted, stood listening. Something must instantly be done.
'Right, Hench, right,' I interrupted him. 'I agree. I agree with every word you say. But look here, how will this do? Come with me now. Trust me. And I'll find someone to whom you can tell everything. . . . How will that do for you? I'll get you the very man-only we must lose no time.
