'Yes, I know. Now listen to me! This appears to come under the general head of emergencies. We're not quite in such bad shape as we were a month back. There's a little advertising revenue coming in. An——'
'Yes, I thought——'
'And you've certainly sunk enough in this old property—'
'No more than you, Hump——'
'Just wait, will you! I don't see but what we've got to stand back of you. Perhaps we'd better enter it as a loan from the business to you until I can think up a better excuse. Or no, I'll tell you—call it a salary advance. Well, something! I'll work it out. Never you mind now. And if you're going to stop at the bank and catch the three-eight you'll have to step along.'
It would have interested a student of psychophysics, I think, to slip a clinical thermometer in under Henry's tongue as he sat, erect, staring, with nervously twitching hands and feet, on the three-eight train.
4
To Cicely's house Henry hurried after bolting a supper at Stanley's restaurant and managing to evade Humphrey's amused questions when he heard them.
It was early, barely half-past seven. The Watt household had dinner (not supper) at seven. They would hardly be through. He couldn't help that. He had waited as long as he could.
He rang the bell. The butler showed him in. He sat on the piano stool in the spacious, high-ceiled parlour, where he had waited so often before.