"I will tell you if you will listen."
"Oh, yes, of course you will. It will no doubt do you great good to humiliate me."
"When you feel, sir, that I am humiliating you, one word is all you need to say."
"What's that? Come now, no foolish threats. What is it you want to do?"
"I have an idea," Henry answered, "that I could manage a newspaper."
"The devil you have."
"Yes, the devil I have, if you insist. I am a newspaper man and I like the work. It holds a fascination for me while everything else is dull. Now, I have a proposal to make, not a modest one, perhaps, but one which I hope you will patiently consider—if you can. It would be easy for you to get control of some afternoon newspaper. I can take charge of it, and in time pay back the money you invest. I don't ask you to give me a cent."
The merchant was about to reply, when Mrs. Witherspoon entered the room. "Why, what is the matter?" she asked.
Witherspoon resumed his seat, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, stretched forth his legs, crossed his feet and nervously shook them.
"What is the matter?" she repeated.