Yes. Why do you do it? Every night you come making a noise--"

Making a noise?"

Like this." I imitated his buzzing noise. He looked at me, and it was

evident the buzzing awakened distaste. "Do I do that?" he asked.

Every blessed evening."

I had no idea."

He stopped dead. He regarded me gravely. "Can it be," he said, "that I

have formed a Habit?"

Well, it looks like it. Doesn't it?"

He pulled down his lower lip between finger and thumb. He regarded a

puddle at his feet.

My mind is much occupied," he said. "And you want to know why! Well, sir,

I can assure you that not only do I not know why I do these things, but I

did not even know I did them. Come to think, it is just as you say;

I never have been beyond that field.... And these things annoy you?"

For some reason I was beginning to relent towards him. "Not annoy,"

The First Men In The Moon