I ran down the green stairway. At the door of the boardinghouse, I bumped into the owner, a one-eyed taciturn fellow. Sitting on a wicker stool, he smoked, his eye half closed. In a hoarse voice, he asked:

"Where are you going?"

"To take a walk, It's too hot."

"Hmm--everything's closed. And no streetlights around here. You'd better stay put."

I shrugged my shoulders, muttered back "back soon," and plunged into the darkness.