Eddie felt sure of it now. This man had sensed a kinship in him, and was in the same boat. But he was afraid to ask the question, so he was throwing out subtle hints, inviting _Eddie_ to ask. Eddie took one more glance at the landscape, and then looked steadily at the man. "I must ask you something," he said, forcing himself to speak slowly and calmly above the wave of excitement. Then he stopped, because he realized how the question would strike the stranger if he weren't what he seemed. "It's a strange question," Eddie continued haltingly. "Go ahead," said the man encouragingly, his face earnest, "I won't think you crazy." The fear left Eddie. "Do you, or did you ever, know color?" he asked. "Color?" The man seemed disappointed, but not shocked. "Yes, you know, red, green, blue, yellow and all the others...." Eddie's voice trailed off as his excitement faded. The stranger obviously didn't know, or there would have been an immediate response. All that showed on his face was disappointment faintly tinged with curiosity. At least, though, there was no ridicule. "What was that word again?" "Color." "Co-lor ... interesting. Would you tell me about it? Try to describe it." "It can't be described," Eddie said, almost sharply. Then, relenting, he added, "I've tried before, many times, just after it happened." "After _what_ happened? I wish you'd tell me. I'd like to know for ... for personal reasons, which I may tell you afterwards. Of course you may have related it so many times that it bores you." "No, as a matter of fact I haven't. I haven't told the whole story for months, and then only once." Eddie felt hope again. This man, though he didn't know color, obviously knew _something_. What he knew might help more than the unlikely theories of doctors and psychiatrists. "It happened a little over six months ago on a rainy spring night," Eddie began. "I tell you all the details, about the rain and all, because who knows what counts and what doesn't?" "Go on," said the man, "don't leave anything out." "That night I felt lonely and sort of depressed, and I decided to go to the movies. Nothing much was playing in my neighborhood, so I went to look at the cheap revivals on Forty-second Street. I wandered around for a long time in the rain, getting more and more depressed. "I couldn't find anything good playing, and I didn't feel like going home again, and just then I saw this garish poster of a bullfighter. Above it the movie marquee said, 'Blood and Sand.' I'd seen the movie before, and didn't think it was anything so special. But I remembered the color, real vivid and romantic. So I decided to go see it again. It was better than going back to the apartment." "You said the word _color_ again," the stranger interrupted, "you better try to explain that to me right now. Color, I mean."