“I—I want to apologize.”
I blinked. “For what?”
He shook his head. “Let me finish.”
I shrugged, feeling uneasy. Was the guy married? Maybe he had a wife and seven kids. All manner of horrors began to crawl about my mind.
“For—keeping you—incommunicado.”
“What!” A cold chill passed down my spine. Newspaper headlines leapt into my mind’s eye. Body of city investor found buried, cut into a dozen pieces. Then I shook my head. No, it wasn’t possible.I leaned forward and took hold of his hand. “Go on!”
This action seemed to give Hank courage. He nodded and said, “I—I resolved just to do it for a day or two. When you wanted to go into town, I was going to give it to you.”
I stared, uncertain how to interpret this.
Hank moved his free hand on the table in a fretful way. “I just wanted—well, to ensure that—to give it, us, a chance—” He broke off and put his hand over his eyes, evidently fighting off tears. At last he mastered himself and continued. “I didn’t want to lose you, too.”