“You and your cousin can talk better alone, I know,” she whispered. “I want to see Primmie a minute, anyway.”
Her lodger regarded her mutely. The expression of dumb misery on his face caused her to pause for an instant.
“You're SURE there's no bad news, Mr. Bangs?” she asked, anxiously.
He managed to smile, but the smile was not a convincing success. “Oh, yes—ah—quite, quite,” he protested. “It—it is—ah—extremely pleasant, really.... Yes—yes, Cousin Gussie, I am—I am still here.”
“Oh, you are! Fine! I thought probably you had gone to dig another quahaug. Why don't you answer letters?”
Galusha glanced desperately at the kitchen door. Thank heaven, it was closed.
“I answered yours,” he declared.
“You did not. You only half answered it. That idiot Barbour sent you a check for over fourteen thousand dollars. Of course, if I had been well and here he wouldn't have done any such fool thing. He says you told him to.”
“Ah—did I?”
“Did you? Don't you know whether you did or not? Well, never mind. You came up here on two separate occasions, so they tell me, and drew thirteen thousand of that in cash and took it away with you. Now what on earth did you do that for?”