“We will,” promised Penny, “but first, suppose you explain why you went away.”
“I thought I did tell you.” Mr. Rhett drew a deep sigh. “For many months I considered retiring from the bank. I discussed it with my wife, but she failed to see my viewpoint and insisted that I remain. We became deadlocked, so to speak.
“I tried for her sake to force myself to like bank work, but it was utterly impossible. Each day I found myself longing for the old carefree adventurous days.”
“So you quietly walked out?” Jerry supplied.
“Something like that. My actions weren’t premeditated. One thing led to another. I had a quarrel with my wife over neglect of bank duties. As I sat thinking it over at my desk, it struck me that Lorinda and her mother probably would be happier if I removed myself from the picture.”
“Did you write anything as you sat there?” Penny interposed eagerly.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Did you draw a picture of a plumed serpent?”
“Yes, I believe so, though it was only absent-minded doodling.”
“And beneath the drawing you wrote, ‘This shall be the end.’”