“Now, eat that,” I said. He frowned, and shook his head.
“Atkins, you are behaving like a child; you must not fall ill now, or what will become of your wife?”
He hesitated a minute, then sat obediently down. I drew up a chair also, and, by playing with some fruit, pretended to be sharing his meal. The more I watched him the more I became convinced that something must be done to relieve the tension under which he suffered. A new emotion might serve the purpose; so I said:
“I have just found out some interesting facts about the murdered man.”
He dropped his knife and fork.
“What?” he gasped.
“Nothing at all derogatory to your wife, I assure you; I am more than ever convinced that a frank talk would have cleared up your little misunderstanding long ago.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and I’ll tell you the whole story, only you must eat.”