As their replies
were not rendered into English, he was left stranded. He knew that
his whole salvation lay in properly impressing his auditors, so he
began again and floundered through a painful monologue. It was not
at all pleasant. It was like being initiated into some secret
order. These strange people sitting so stiff and watchful formed
an inquisitorial body. The night suddenly turned off swelteringly
hot; perspiration began to trickle down his brow, his collar
became a tourniquet, and he cast appealing glances at the silent
figure hidden demurely behind the rustly old lady in the black
harness. The look of mingled pity and understanding she gave him
somewhat revived his fainting spirit, and he determined to stick
it out until the family were ready to retire and allow him a word
with her alone. But, idle hope! Gradually it dawned upon him that
they had no such intention. To relieve the strain, he became
facetious and told funny stories; but this was an unlucky
experiment, for his witticisms fell with a ghastly hollowness. No
one laughed save the grandmother and the Guatemalan cousin, who
could not understand, and at this Kirk fled helter-skelter from
the realms of humor.
By now his collar had given up the struggle and lain limply down
to rest.
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