“Tomorrow!” he said. “Can’t I have it today?”
“It’s a bad road, sir,” she said, “There was an accident there a year ago. A gentleman killed. Accidents, sir, happen in a moment, don’t they?”
But the visitor did not feel like talking.
“They do,” he said, through his muffler, looking at her quietly from behind his glasses.
“But they take long enough to get well, sir, don’t they? My sister’s son, Tom, once just cut his arm. He was three months bandaged, sir.”
“I can quite understand that,” said the visitor.
“We were afraid, one time, that he’d have to have an operation, he was that bad, sir.”
The visitor laughed suddenly.
“Was he?” he said.
“He was, sir. And it was no laughing matter to them[6], sir —”
“Will you get me some matches?” said the visitor. “My pipe is out.”
Mrs. Hall stopped suddenly. It was certainly rude of him after telling him about her family. She stood for a moment, remembered the sovereigns, and went for the matches. Evidently he did not want to speak about operations and bandages.
The visitor remained in his room until four o’clock. He was quite still during that time: he sat smoking by the fire.
Chapter II
Mr. Teddy Henfrey’s First Impressions
At four o’clock, when it was already dark, and Mrs. Hall wanted to go in and ask her visitor if he would take some tea, Teddy Henfrey, the clock-jobber[7], came into the bar.
“Lord[8], Mrs. Hall,” said he, “but this is terrible weather!”
Mrs. Hall agreed, and then noticed he had his bag with him. “Now you’re here,” said she, “I’d be glad if you looked at the clock. The hour hand only points at six.”
And she led the way to the guest room, knocked and entered.
As she opened the door, she saw her visitor sitting in the armchair before the fire. The only light in the room was from the fire. It was quite dark. But for a second it seemed to her that the man had an enormous mouth wide open, it took the whole of the lower portion of his face. It was the impression of a moment. Then he put up his hand. She opened the door wide so that the room was lighter, and she saw him more clearly, with the muffler held to his face, just as she had seen him hold the napkin before. The shadows, she thought, had tricked her.
“Would you mind, sir, this man looking at the clock, sir?” she said.
“Look at the clock?” he said, speaking through his muffler; and then, “Certainly.”