Kempner--a pale, dogged man, with a pompous white moustache which pouted and bristled while he spoke--rose and delivered a pointless oration.

"Ignoring race and creed," he droned, "we must stand together--" Heywood balanced a pencil, twirled it, and at last took to drawing.

On the polished wood he scratched, with great pains, the effigy of a pig, whose snout blared forth a gale of quarter-notes.
"Whistle away!" he muttered; then resumed, as if no one had interrupted: "Very good of you, Gilly.

But with your permission, I see five points .-- Here's a rough sketch, made some time ago." He tossed on the table a sheet of paper.

Forrester spread it, frowning, while the others leaned across or craned over his chair.
"All out of whack, you see," explained the draughtsman; "but here are my points, Gilly.