“No—sleet.”
“Very unpleasant to have far to go such a night,” suggested Bixby, who could think of nothing better to say.
“Not at all,” responded the old gentleman, authoritatively.
Bixby was silent again.
The old gentleman, leaning with his elbow on the table, began again.
“You like to live well, Mr. Bangs?”
“I try to,” answered Mr. Bixby.
“Yes.”
“This must be some relative of Bangs come to deliver him a lecture on his course of life. Why don’t he broach his advice at once?” thought Mr. Bixby. The visitor here pulled a glove from his right hand, ran his fingers through his hair, and then, in a more business-like tone, spoke again:
“Although a stranger to you personally, Mr. Bangs, I have always taken a great interest in your family. Mr. Bangs, I knew your father.”