'I meant to be,' said Mrs. Porter crisply. 'Now. Tell me. Where has Mr.
Winfield gone?'
Mr. Penway preserved an offended silence. Mrs. Porter struck the table
a blow with a book which caused him to leap in his seat.
'Where has Mr. Winfield gone?'
'How should I know?'
'How should you know? Because he told you, I should imagine.
Where...has...Mr....Winfield...gone?'
'C'nnecticut,' said Mr. Penway, finally capitulating.
'What part of Connecticut?'
'I don't know.'
'What part of Connecticut?'
'I tell you I don't know. He said: 'I'm off to Connecticut,' and left.'
It suddenly struck Mr. Penway that his defeat was not so overwhelming
as he had imagined. 'So you haven't got much out of me, you see, after
all,' he added.
Mrs. Porter rose.
'On the contrary,' she said; 'I have got out of you precisely the
information which I required, and in considerably less time than I had
supposed likely. If it interests you, I may tell you that Mr. Winfield
has gone to a small house which he owns in the Connecticut woods.'
'Then what,' demanded Mr. Penway indignantly, 'did you mean by keeping
on saying 'What part of C'nnecticut? What part of C'nnecticut? What
part......''
'Because Mr. Winfield's destination has only just occurred to me.' She
looked at him closely. 'You are a curious and not uninteresting object,
Mr. Penway.'
Mr. Penway started. 'Eh?'
'Object lesson, I should have said. I should like to exhibit you as a
warning to the youth of this country.'
'What!'
'From the look of your frame I should imagine that you were once a man
of some physique. Your shoulders are good. Even now a rigorous course
of physical training might save you. I have known more helpless cases
saved by firm treatment. You have allowed yourself to deteriorate much
as did a man named Pennicut who used to be employed here by Mr.
Winfield. I saved him. I dare say I could make something of you. I can
see at a glance that you eat, drink, and smoke too much. You could not
hold out your hand now, at this minute, without it trembling.'
'I could,' said Mr. Penway indignantly.
He held it out, and it quivered like a tuning-fork.
'There!' said Mrs. Porter calmly. 'What do you expect? You know your
own business best, I suppose, but I should like to tell you that if you
do not become a teetotaller instantly, and begin taking exercise, you
will probably die suddenly within a very few years. Personally I shall
bear the calamity with fortitude. Good evening, Mr. Penway.'
For some moments after she had gone Mr. Penway sat staring before him.
His eyes wore a glassy look. His mouth was still ajar.
'Damn woman!' he said at length.
