The boy put down his book and eyed me steadily.
“He left this morning.”
“The president?”
“His secretary.”
“Suddenly, perhaps?” I said.
He slowly nodded his head several times, still gazing at me.
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
“Two weeks.”
“Do you care for it?”
Instead of answering he got up, took the name I had written on the pad, and disappeared through the door to the left. Almost at once he stood holding it open and beckoned me to enter.