"Hello, didn't your lady tell you how I lectured her on expenses?" Bofinger said, examining him with uneasiness. "Guess I must have turned her against me with too much advice."
"Oh yes," Fargus said finally, forced to say something. "I remember."
"It goes better then?"
"Better."
"Well, well, glad to hear it," Bofinger said, withdrawing his arm and shooting a queer look. "Glad to have been of use. Call on me any time. By, by!"
With a nod and a luxuriant wave of his arm he ground on his heel and strode away. Fargus, a little uneasy, plodded along saying to himself that he had shown his ill-humor too abruptly. Next, remembering the little deceit in which they had been fellows, he became genuinely alarmed lest Bofinger, offended, should revenge himself by blabbing to Sheila. At this horrible idea he at once set out for Jefferson Market determined to conciliate the lawyer. The poor man, after a few weeks of marriage, was ready to do anything to escape facing a scene.
Entering hastily he found the office in the sole possession of Hyman Groll. He halted, startled by the unusual figure of the hunchback, and asked:
"Isn't Mr. Bofinger back?"
"Not yet."
"When do you expect him?"