All at once Jadwin paused, laid down his knife and fork, and looked strangely to and fro about the room.
"We'll have one of our old evenings again," he repeated, slowly.
"What is it, Curtis?" demanded his wife. "What is the matter?"
"Oh—nothing," he answered.
"Why, yes there was. Tell me."
"No, no. I'm all right now," he returned, briskly enough.
"No," she insisted. "You must tell me. Are you sick?"
He hesitated a moment. Then:
"Sick?" he queried. "No, indeed. But—I'll tell you. Since a few days I've had," he put his fingers to his forehead between his eyes, "I've had a queer sensation right there. It comes and goes."
"A headache?"