He dropped his paper and sat listening, with a troubled expression.
'Are you there, dear?' he called out after a while.
'Yes, I'm here. Why do you think I am not, you old fool?' she cried back in a tired voice.
His face brightened at the sound of her words. 'Go on, dear,' he answered. 'I'm listening. I like to hear you talk.'
But the poor woman was too exhausted.
At night did her best, but it was a weak performance. After insulting him for three-quarters of an hour, she laid back on the pillow, and wanted to go to sleep. But he shook her gently by the shoulder.
'Yes, dear,' he said, 'you were speaking about Jane, and the way I looked at her during the lunch.'
“It's very strange,” concluded my friend, lighting a fresh cigar, “what men of habit we are.”
The shy man in the corner said: “I can tell you a true story and I bet a dollar you won't believe it.”
“I haven't got a dollar, but I'll bet you half a sovereign,” replied my friend.
So the shy man told his story.
“I'm going to tell you about a man from Jefferson,” he began. “He was born in the town, and for forty-seven years he never slept a night outside it. He was a respectable man – a merchant from nine to four, and a religious man in his free time. He said that a good life meant good habits. He got up at seven, had family prayer at seven-thirty, had breakfast at eight, got to his business at nine, had his horse brought to the office at four, and rode for an hour, reached home at five, had a bath and a cup of tea, played with children and read to them till half-past six, dressed and dined at seven, went to the club and played whist till quarter after ten, returned home to evening prayer at ten-thirty, and went to bed at eleven. For twenty-five years he lived that life without any variations. He was used by the local astronomers to check the sun.
One day his business partner in London, an East Indian merchant and an ex-Lord Mayor died, and our man was his only heir. The business was complicated and needed management. He decided to leave his son, a young man of twenty-four, as a manager of his business at Jefferson, and to go to his second family in England, to look after the East Indian business.
He set out from Jefferson City on October the fourth, and arrived in London on the seventeenth. He was ill during the whole trip. After several days in bed he announced his decision to go into the City to see to his business.