§ 89 The Man Who Was Thursday
Two men, strangers to each other, but having something in common in that they had been indulging in potent home brews, fell into a hiccoughy conversation on the back platform of a suburban trolley car whizzing across the New Jersey landscape.
“Shay,” inquired Number One, “whuz time is it?”
Number Two with difficulty extracted from his fob pocket a watch; but a temporary defect of vision prevented him from making out the position of the two hands. Nevertheless he did his best to oblige.
“It’s izactly Thurshday afternoon,” he said.
Number One gave a start.
“Iz tha’s so?” he murmured in surprised tones. “Well, then, thish is where I hafter get off.”