Jeff felt as if his heart had been drenched in icy water. “What about her?”
“She's—gone.”
“Gone where?”
“We don't know. She left Friday. There was a note for her mother. It said to forget her, because she was a disgrace to her name.”
“You mean—” Jeff did not finish his question. He knew what the answer was, and in his soul lay a reflection of the mortal sickness he saw in his friend's face.
Miller nodded, unable to speak. Presently his words came brokenly. “She's been acting strangely for a long time. Her mother noticed it.... So did I. Like as if she wasn't happy. We've been worried. I...I...” He buried his face in his arm on the table. “My God, I love her, Jeff. I have for years. If I'd only known... if she'd only told me.”
Jeff was white as the galley proof that lay before him with the unprinted side up. “Tell me all about it, Sam.”
Miller looked up. “That's all. We don't know where she's gone. She had no money to speak of.”
“And the man?” Jeff almost whispered.
“We don't know who he is. Might be any one of the clerks at the Verden Dry Goods Company. Maybe it's none of them. If I knew I'd cut his heart out.”