Henry bowed. He felt confused, and more than a little tired. And he disliked this man, deeply. Found him depressing. But outwardly--he didn't himself dream this--he presented a picture of austere dignity. An effect that was intensified, if anything, by his youth. 'Anybody else with her and Corinne?' Henry bowed again. 'A man?' 'Yes.' Henry was finding him disgusting now. But he must be extremely careful. An unnecessary word might hurt Mildred or Humphrey. Good old Hump! Mr Henderson turned the fresh cigar round and round, looking intently at it. In a surprisingly quiet manner he asked:-- 'Why doesn't she come home?' Henry looked at the man. Anger swelled within him. 'Because you're here?' He bit the sentence off. He felt stifled. He wanted to run out, past the man, and breathe in the cool night air. Mr Henderson looked up, then down again at the cigar. Then he pushed open the screen door. 'May as well sit down and talk this over,' he said. 'Cooler on the porch. Dam' queer line o' talk. You're young, Calverly. You don't know life. You don't understand these things. My God! When I think... Well, what is it? You seem to be in on this. Speak out! Tell me what she wants. That's one thing about me--I'm straight out. Fair and square. Give and take. I'm no hand for beating about the bush. Come on with it. What does she think I ought to do?' 'I can't tell you what she thinks.' Henry was downright angry now. 'Oh, yes! It's easy for you! You haven't been through...' His face seemed to be working. And his voice had a choke in it. 'But how could a kid like you understand I How could you know the way you get tied up and... all the little things... My God, man! It hurts. Can you understand that. It's tough.' He subsided. Finally, after a long silence, he said huskily but quietly, with resignation, 'You'd say I ought to go.' Henry was silent. Mr Henderson got up. 'I guess I know how to be a sport,' he said. He went into the house, and in a few minutes returned with his suit-case. 'It's--it's sorta like leaving things all at loose ends,' he remarked. 'But then--of course...' He went down two or three steps; then paused and looked up at Henry, who had risen now. 'You'--his voice was husky again--'you staying here?' 'No,' said Henry; and walked a way up the street with him. Mr Henderson said, rather stiffly, that the hot spell really seemed to be over. Been fierce. Especially through Iowa and Missouri. No lake breeze, or anything like that. Muggy all the time. That was the thing here in Sunbury--the lake breeze.' 5 They were still in front of the Ames place. But Mildred had risen. They stood watching him as he came, carrying the hat. 'Where on earth have you been?' asked Corinne. Henry met with difficulty in replying. He was embarrassed, caught in an uprush of self-consciousness. He couldn't see why there need be talk. He gave Humphrey his hat. 'How'd you get this?' 'In there.'