"The boy's waiting for an answer, isn't he?"
"No, sir."
He stood a moment in blank uneasiness, until, suddenly aware that she was waiting, he dismissed her with a curt:
"Oh, very well."
Then he remained by the table, looking at the envelope which he did not open, hearing the sound of the closing outer door and the passing of the maid down the hall.
"Why didn't she telephone?" he said aloud slowly.
He looked at the letter again. He had made no mistake. It was from his wife.
"If she's gone off again on some whim," he said angrily, "by George, I won't stand for it."
Then carelessly inserting a finger, he broke the cover and glanced hastily down the letter:
My dear Jackie: