The tone demanded a straightforward answer, in fact it was like a command, as of one who had the right to know. Eugene stiffened, resentfully:
“She has not,” he answered. “I believe I told you that over the phone a little while ago.”
“You did,” said Sherwood. “I came to make sure.”
He gave a glance about that had a sense of listening in it.
“Indeed!” bristled Eugene.
“When did she go away, just what time?”
“What business of yours is that?”
“It isn’t any of my business. I’m making it mine. What time?”
“Well, find out if you can. I don’t answer impertinent questions.” Eugene was white with anger. He would have liked to have put this intruder out, only the man was nearly twice his size.
“That’s what I intend to do!” answered the visitor taking a step into the room where he could look well through the hall and living room without effort. There was a grim set look about his face that meant business, and yet he turned to Nannette with that winning smile he could flash forth suddenly like the sun coming out from behind a cloud: