<p>Tarr turned to Hobson, and seized him, conversationally, by the hair.</p><p>&nbsp; &ldquo;Well, Walt Whitman, when are you going to get your hair cut?&rdquo;</p><p>&nbsp; &ldquo;Why do you call me Walt Whitman?&rdquo;</p><p>&nbsp; &ldquo;Would you prefer Buffalo Bill? Or is it Shakespeare?&rdquo;</p><p>&nbsp; &ldquo;It is not Shakespeare&mdash;&rdquo;</p><p>&nbsp; &ldquo;&lsquo;Roi je ne suis: prince je ne daigne.&rsquo;&mdash;That&rsquo;s Hobson&rsquo;s choice.&mdash;But why so much hair? I don&rsquo;t wear my hair long. If you had as many reasons for wearing it long as I have, we should see it flowing round your ankles!&rdquo;</p><p>&nbsp; &ldquo;I might ask you under those circumstances why you wear it short. But I expect you have good reasons for that, too. I can&rsquo;t see why you should resent my innocent device. However long I wore it I should not damage you by my competition&mdash;&rdquo;</p><p>&nbsp; Tarr rattled the cement match-stand on the table, and the gar&ccedil;on sang &ldquo;Toute suite, toute suite!&rdquo;</p>