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"
We
are
dumb
,
"
the
porter
said
.
"
You
will
let
me
know
anything
I
can
do
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
I
said
.
"
Good
-
by
.
I
will
see
you
again
.
"
They
stood
in
the
door
,
looking
after
me
.
I
got
into
the
cab
and
gave
the
driver
the
address
of
Simmons
,
one
of
the
men
I
knew
who
was
studying
singing
.
Simmons
lived
a
long
way
out
in
the
town
toward
the
Porta
Magenta
.
He
was
still
in
bed
and
sleepy
when
I
went
to
see
him
.
"
You
get
up
awfully
early
,
Henry
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
came
in
on
the
early
train
.
"
"
What
’
s
all
this
retreat
?
Were
you
at
the
front
?
Will
you
have
a
cigarette
?
They
’
re
in
that
box
on
the
table
.
"
It
was
a
big
room
with
a
bed
beside
the
wall
,
a
piano
over
on
the
far
side
and
a
dresser
and
table
.
I
sat
on
a
chair
by
the
bed
.
Simmons
sat
propped
up
by
the
pillows
and
smoked
.
"
I
’
m
in
a
jam
,
Sim
,
"
I
said
.
"
So
am
I
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
’
m
always
in
a
jam
.
Won
’
t
you
smoke
?
"