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hand, “except that my wife and child are somewhere in the ruins of the Masonic in Napier!”

He swung away sharply and continued on his way at a rapid walk. He was sobbing, and was unaware of it.

The strong hand touched his shoulder again, but it made no attempt to stay him. The broken-nosed one fell into step beside him.

“Sorry, cobber.”

“That’s all right,” grunted Harley, looking blindly ahead.

“How do you know your wife and kid is in the Masonic?” asked the broken-nosed one.

“That’s where they were staying.”

“That ain’t no reason for believin’ they was in the pub at the time of the shake. They might have been anywhere. I’ll betcha they was on the beach—the beach is only just across the Parade. I wouldn’t believe nothin’ until I was sure, if I was you, cobber. No good looking for the worst———”

Harley interrupted the well-intentioned phrases by halting suddenly, turning upon his unwelcome visitor, and thrusting his face forward belligerently while he clenched his fists in threat.

“Leave me alone!” he cried. “Leave me alone!”

The broken-nosed one looked hurt for a moment, then his mouth twisted in a one-sided sneer.

“Awright, cobber, awright. I don’t want to push in where I ain’t wanted. Just thought you might like somebody to talk to———,” . . . .

“I don’t. I want to be alone.”

“Yeh. I can see that.”

The broken-nosed one moved away a pace, then turned.

“You never want to wave them flippers of yours like that, cobber, when you meet a bloke with a nose and ears like mine,” he said significantly. “Cheerio!”

He waved a hand in farewell and walked into a