“Has Mrs. Chappell ever stayed away over night before?”
“No, not without my knowing where she was.” His lips jerked a little. “I think I know what you are going to ask. I’d like—I’d rather not hear. I mean I know it’s necessary, but, if I can, I think I’d rather try to tell you without your asking.”
“I’d like that better too,” I agreed. “I hope you don’t think I’m getting any fun out of this.”
“I know,” he said. He took a deep breath and spoke rapidly, hurrying to get it over: “I’ve never had any reason to believe that she went anywhere that she didn’t tell me about or had any friends she didn’t tell me about. Is that”—his voice was pleading—“what you wanted to know?”
“Yes, thanks.” I turned to the Old Man again. The only way to get anything out of him was to ask for it,