“He’s—well,” gulped Nathan. He looked down at his hands, raised his eyes to Bernie’s, smiled foolishly, dropped them again in embarrassment.
Bernice made no comment on her father being well. And Nathan saw how life had hardened her. The woman was adamant. Her eyes, as she watched the man’s embarrassment, seemed to declare, “Oh, what a hick you are! Oh, what a hick!”
“Well?” she suggested irritably.
“I won’t take any of your time to-night, Bernie. But I would like to talk over old times with you before I go—on!”
“I’m having a few friends in to-night, so I can’t see you. But if you’ll come to-morrow night, I’ll try and give you a few minutes. How’s your wife? Is she with you?”
“I have no wife. She—died.”
“What business are you in now?”
“Until lately I’ve been on the road for the Thornes. They took me off and are sending me to Vladivostok on special business.”
“How’s your father and mother?”
Nathan looked up in surprise.