Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (293 page)

"I
know,"
he
went
on,
looking
at
me
sombrely.
"You
needn't
tell me.
I
can
see
you're
an
intelligent
man,
so
it's
different.
But
you
can't argue
with
me,
and
I'll
tell
you
why.
You
see,
you
don't
know
what
I know.
Oh,
I
don't
care
if
they
do
think
I'm
queer.
I
am
queer.
And
so would
you
be
if
you'd
seen
what
I've
seen.
They
wouldn't
because they
wouldn't
have
the
sense.
.
.
."
His
voice
trailed
away.
He shrugged
his
thin
sloping
shoulders.
His
face
took
on
a
certain
obstinate
look
that
you
often
see
on
the
faces
of
weak
men.
Evidently
he thought
he
had
said
too
much.

I
was
curious
now.
"I
don't
see
what
you
mean,"
I
began.
"No doubt
you've
had
unpleasant
experiences,
but
then
most
of
us
have
at some
time
or
other."
I
looked
at
him
expectantly.

"I
don't
mean
that,"
he
said,
raising
his
voice
and
adding
a
touch
of scorn.
"This
is
different.
You
wouldn't
understand,
unless
I
told
you it
all.
Even
then
you
mightn't.
It's
difficult.
Oh,
what's
the
use!"
He finished
his
whisky
in
one
quick
gulp. "Well,
I
wish
you'd
tell
me."

Doubtfully,
mournfully,
he
examined
my
face,
then
he
stared
about the
room,
pulling
his
straggling
and
drooping
moustache.
"Could
I have
another
cigarette?"
he
asked,
finally.
When
he
had
lit
it,
he
blew out
a
cloud
of
smoke,
then
looked
at
me
again.

"I've
seen
something
nobody
else
has
seen,"
said
Mr.
Strenberry. "I've
seen
the
end
of
it
all,
all
this,"
he
waved
a
hand
and
gave
a
bitter little
laugh,
"building
houses,
factories,
education,
public
health, churches,
drinking
in
pubs,
getting
children,
walking
in
fields,
everything,
every
mortal
blessed
thing.
That's
what
I've
seen,
a
glimpse anyhow.
Finish!
Finish!
The
End!"

"It
sounds
like
doomsday,"
I
told
him.

"And
that's
what
it
was,"
cried
Mr.
Strenberry,
his
face
lighting
up
strangely.
"Anyhow,
that's
what
it
amounted
to.
I
can't
think
about
anything
else.
And
you
couldn't
either,
if
you'd
been
there.
I've
gone
back
to
it,
thought
about
it,
thought
round
and
round
it,
oh,
thou-
sands
of
times!
Do
you
know
Opperton
Heath?
You
do?
Well,
that's
where
it
happened,
nearly
three
years
ago.
That's
all,
three
years
ago.
I'd
gone
up
there
for
a
walk
and
to
have
a
look
at
the
birds.
I
used
to
be
very
interested
in
birds—my
God,
I've
dropped
that
now—and
there
are
one
or
two
rare
kinds
up
on
the
Heath
there.
You
know
what
it's
like—lonely.
I
hadn't
met
a
soul
all
afternoon.
That's
the
worst
of
it.
If
there'd
only
been
somebody
else
there
-
"