Mr Henderson resumed the excited tone. It was curious coming in that jumpy way. Even Henry divined the weakness back of it and grew calmer.
'I've been out on——' He paused. Mildred had trained him not to use the phrase, 'on the road.' He resumed with, '—on a business trip. More'n a month. I swan, I'm tired out. Way trains and country hotels. Fierce! If I seem nervous.... Look here, you seem pretty much at home! Perhaps you'll tell me where my wife is!'
Henry considered this. Shook his head.
'Trying to make me think you don't know, eh!'
'I do know.'
Mr Henderson knit his brows over this. Then, instead of immediately pressing the matter, he took out a fresh cigar and lighted it with the butt of the old one.
'Seems to me you ought to tell me,' he said then.
'I can't.'
'That's queer, ain't it?'
'Well, it's true. I can't.'