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AFTER THE STORM
"You can't," I said. "You're right there. You can't go away without a word"
"Without a word? What do you mean? Garny, old boy, pull yourself together. You're overexcited. Do you mean to tell me you didn't get my note?"
"What note?"
"The one I left on the dining-room table."
"There was no note there."
"What!"
I was reminded of the scene that had taken place on the first day of our visit.
"Feel in your pockets," I said.
And history repeated itself. One of the first things he pulled out was the note.
"Why, here it is!" he said in amazement.
"Of course. Where did you expect it to be? Was it important?"
"Why, it explained the whole thing."
"Then," I said, "I wish you'd let me
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