'She wrote me that she had Corinne Doag visiting here.'
'Yes. She's here.'
'With my wife? Now?'
Henry bowed. He felt confused, and more than a little tired. And he disliked this man, deeply. Found him depressing. But outwardly—he didn't himself dream this—he presented a picture of austere dignity. An effect that was intensified, if anything, by his youth.
'Anybody else with her and Corinne?'
Henry bowed again.
'A man?'
'Yes.' Henry was finding him disgusting now. But he must be extremely careful. An unnecessary word might hurt Mildred or Humphrey. Good old Hump!
Mr Henderson turned the fresh cigar round and round, looking intently at it. In a surprisingly quiet manner he asked:—
'Why doesn't she come home?'