. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. ‘C’est ridicule. And yet that could not be: it was a confession only in the event of his death. Again he rushed. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. He had been baptized there. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. “Here we are, living in the same suburb,” he began.
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