“Not yet,” answered Ross. “But—wait a minute!”
For he thought he heard some one at the door. He was standing with the receiver in his hand when the door slid open and Eddy came in.
“He’s just—” he began, turning back to the telephone, when Eddy sprang forward and caught his arm, and whispered: “Shut up! Sh-h-h!”
“Just about due,” said Ross to Gracie. Then he hung up the receiver and faced Eddy.
“Don’t tell ’em I’m here!” said Eddy. “I—I don’t want—I c-can’t stand any—jabbering. I—Oh, Gawd!”
At the end of his tether, Eddy was. His lips twitched, his face was distorted with his valiant effort after self-control. And it occurred to Ross that, for all his shrewdness and his worldly air, Eddy was not very old or very wise.
“What’s up, old man?” he asked.
“Tell me. You’d better get your dinner now.”
“Nope!” said Eddy. “I—can’t eat. I—I don’t want to talk.”
Ross waited for some time.