a
delirious mind will often carry on a sentence which drifts to the brain.

"Nothing is ever wasted, Freddy--I've told you that over and over
again. You say I waste my time. You won't say so, when you see the
jewels. The saint kept it in his ear, Abdul--wasn't that clever for a
child of God? Look, look, Abdul!" Michael stared into the distance;
his eyes became transfixed; he was excited, strong physically.
"Millicent's small breasts are so white, so white and fair. Her two
breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a roe, that feed among the
lilies. They are covered with jewels, they catch the sunlight. How
beautiful she is! Do you see her, Abdul? She is walking in the air in
front of me, all the way, Mohammed Ali's 'golden lady.'"

Abdul applied a wet towel to his master's burning temples. He sank
back on his pillow exhausted; his voice became low and feeble.

"The little white tent, it is always calling, calling, its open door is
always inviting me. Why does it say, all day long, 'Turn in, my lord,
turn in'? But Margaret came to me, she saved me. Listen--can you hear
the bells, Abdul? I heard them in the night, they sounded like the
bubbling of water. Then peace came, peace, when the woman had sneaked
away. Freddy always said I walked on my head, Abdul; he always
declared that the whole affair was moonshine, no one in their senses
would believe it. I always believe in people who have no sense, for
God gives finer _senses_ to people who have no sense. Sense never sees
beyond, Abdul."

Often he became very wild; broken sentences would pour from his lips,
the foolish, unmeaning ravings of a fevered brain.

After these wild outbursts intervals of exhaustion would set in, in
which he would lie in a semi-conscious state of stillness. On one such
occasion the stillness was suddenly broken by the solemn recitation, in
exactly Abdul's devout tones, of the Mohammedan rosary. When he
reached the sixty-third attribute of God, he repeated it with great
unction. Then his pious tones suddenly changed to a querulous cry.

"Abdul, why do you go on saying 'O Source of Discovery'? You know that
we've discovered nothing, nothing at all. It's all mere moonshine. I
wish Abdul would stop--he's sitting in the sky above the horizon,
repeating those same silly words over and over again! If I could only
get at him . . . but the horizon never gets any nearer." He laughed
vulgarly and hoarsely, and then lost the