“I left, trying to tell myself it was all for the best. I moved away, got another job. It was only when I was passing through about two years later that I ran into one of the servants in town and learned what had happened. We had a beer together, and he told me. Seemed surprised I hadn’t heard. But then, I don’t read papers.”
“Heard?”
Hank took a deep breath, his eyes closed. “About his killing himself. Hanged himself in his bedroom.” He broke off and lowered his head into his hands for a while, and my heart really began to fill with sympathy.
“How horrible!” I murmured.
Hank nodded and finally raised his head and wiped his eyes. “He told me—the servant—that Henry began to take to his room more and more. They called in doctors, but that didn’t seem to help.”
“Wow!” I murmured, near tears myself now.
“Well, that did me in. I couldn’t drive anymore that day. I took a room at the local hotel, and that’s where they found me.”
“Who?”