"'E 'as," said Kipps, irritably, holding firm to disaster.
"She say so?"
"She don't know, of course, but you depend upon it that's it. She told me she knew something was on, and when she found 'im gone and a note lef for her she knew it was up with 'im. 'E went by the night boat. She wrote that telegram off to me straight away."
Ann surveyed his features with tender, perplexed eyes; she had never seen him so white and drawn before, and her hand rested an inch or so away from his arm. The actual loss was still, as it were, afar from her. The immediate thing was his enormous distress.
"'Ow do you know?" she said and stopped. It would irritate him too much.
Kipps' imagination was going headlong.
"Sold up!" he emitted presently, and Ann flinched.
"Going back to work, day after day—I can't stand it, Ann, I can't. And you"
"It don't do to think of it," said Ann.
Presently he came upon a resolve. "I keep on thinking of it, and thinking of it, and what's to be done and what's to be done. I shan't be any good 'ome s'arfernoon. It keeps on going 'round and 'round in my 'ead, and 'round and 'round. I better go for a walk or something. I'd be no comfort to you, Ann. I should want to 'owl and 'ammer things if I 'ung about 'ome. My fingers is all atwitch. I
