Henry leaned against Mr Boice's desk, up by the window; dropped his chin into one hand.
'I'll do it, Hump. This afternoon. Or to-night. We're going down to Mildred's this noon, of course.'
'That's part of what's bothering me. God knows how soon after that you'll break away from Corinne.'
'Pretty dam soon,' remarked Henry sullenly, 'the way things are going now.... I'll get at it, Hump. Honest I will. But right now'—he moved a hand weakly through the air—'I just couldn't. You don't know how I feel. I couldn't!'
'Where you going now?'
'I don't know.' The hand moved again. 'Walk around. Gotta be by myself. Sorta think it out. This is one of the days... I've been thinking—be twenty-one in November. Then I'll show him, and all the rest of 'em. Have a little money then. I'll show this hypocritical old town a few things—a few things....'
His voice died to a mumble. He felt with limp fingers at his moustache.
'I'll be ready quarter or twenty minutes past twelve,' Humphrey called after him as he moved mournfully out to the street.
3
Mr Boice moved heavily along, inclining his massive head, without a smile, to this acquaintance and that, and turned in at Schultz and Schwartz's.