“Sha, ’s nothing,” said the injured man, trying to stand up.
He was helped to his feet. The manager said something about a hospital and some of the bystanders gave advice. The battered silk hat was placed on the man’s head. The constable asked:
“Where do you live?”
The man, without answering, began to twirl the ends of his moustache. He made light of his accident. It was nothing, he said: only a little accident.
He spoke very thickly.
“Where do you live?” repeated the constable.
The man said they were to get a cab for him. While the point was being debated a tall agile