"He was a good son," the old woman began to mutter they led her out. At the door she looked back. Suvaroff turned away. "Once a week he came to me and brought me five dollars," she said, quite calmly. "He was a good son. He even played his music to give pleasure to others. Yes, yes! He was like that all his life...." When the women were gone, Suvaroff felt the hunchback's hand upon his. Suvaroff turned a face of dry-eyed hopelessness toward his tormentor. "Did you not sleep peacefully last night, my friend?" Minetti inquired, mockingly. "After the thud I knew nothing," replied Suvaroff. "The thud?" "He fell from his chair." "Of course. That was to be expected. Just so." "You see for yourself what you have done? Fancy, this man has a mother!" "See, it is just as I said. Already you are dragging this dead thing about, chained to your wrist. Come, forget it. I should have killed him, anyway." "That is not the point. The point is--My God! Tell me, in what fashion do these people laugh at you? Tell me how it is done." "Laughter cannot be taught, my friend." "Then Heaven help me! for I should like to laugh at you. If I could but laugh at you, all would be over." "Ah!" said the hunchback. "I see." * * * At the end of the week Minetti came to Suvaroff one evening and said, not unkindly: "Why don't you leave? You are killing yourself. Go away--miles away. It would have happened, anyway." Suvaroff was lying upon his bed. His face was turned toward the wall. He did not trouble to look at Minetti. "I cannot leave. You know that as well as I do. When I am absent from this room I am in a fever until I get back to it again. I lie here and close my eyes and think.... Whenever a thud shakes the house I leap up, trembling. I have not worked for five days. They have given up sending for me from the cafe. Yesterday his mother came and sat with me. She drove me mad. But I sat and listened to her. 'Yes, he was a good son!' She repeats this by the hour, and rolls and unrolls her handkerchief.... It is bad enough in the daytime. But at night--God! If only the music would play again! I cannot endure such silence." He buried his face in the pillow. Minetti shrugged and left.