“Sorry.”
“You aren’t sick, are you?”
“No.”
Hale said, “I’ll retire to my room and get some of the dust and grime removed. And I think I can do a little better job of shaving than I did at this early hour on the train. I’ll see you in — how soon?”
“Half an hour,” Bertha said.
Hale nodded and went down the corridor to his own room.
Bertha turned to me. “Are you holding out?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I want to find out more things from Hale before I tell him everything.”