I could wish it to an early bird to catch it." "That's what I want, a nice, quiet room." "Then you got it," he cried. "It's a room for a needle," his thumb and forefinger indicating an infinitesibly fine point. "A needle?" "So it could hear itself fall." In his own way Mr. Neugass was a jokester, insisting upon the laugh, sitting back upon his figurative haunches, waiting.