his precise, quick voice.
“I believe so,” said the Pussum.
“Oh is it? I’d forgotten—hic!_—it was that one,” Halliday said, opening the letter. “_Hic! Oh yes. How perfectly splendid! This is one of the best. ‘There is a phase in every race—’” he read in the sing-song, slow, distinct voice of a clergyman reading the Scriptures, “‘When the desire for destruction overcomes every other desire. In the individual, this desire is ultimately a desire for destruction in the self’—_hic!_—” he paused and looked up.
“I hope he’s going ahead with the destruction of himself,” said the quick voice of the Russian. Halliday giggled, and lolled his head back, vaguely.
“There’s not much to destroy in him,” said the Pussum. “He’s so thin already, there’s only a fag-end to start on.”
“Oh, isn’t it beautiful! I love reading it! I believe it