But by the sea-banks where at morn their foes / Might find them, lay those knightly name-fellows, / One sick with grief of heart and sleepless, one / With heart of hope triumphant as the sun

The sheikh comes back in, and slowly, we can become a little more personal in our discussion and he nods sagely and then renods.

Even when with heavy / Plume and pall / The sleeky coaches roll by, / Coffin, flowers and all, / He laughs, for he sees / Crouched on the coffin a small / Yellowy shape go by— / Death, uneasy and melancholy.

With the jumpers and the drowners, McGee, you don't pick up a pattern. That's because a jumper damned near always makes it the first time, and a drowner is usually almost as successful, about the same rate as hangers.