Penway.
"You are insulting," he remarked. "You are--you are--most insulting."
"I meant to be," said Mrs. Porter crisply. "Now. Tell me. Where has Mr.
Winfield gone?"
Mr. Penway preserved an offended silence. Mrs. Porter struck the table
a blow with a book which caused him to leap in his seat.
"Where has Mr. Winfield gone?"
"How should I know?"
"How should you know? Because he told you, I should imagine.
Where--has--Mr.--Winfield--gone?"
"C'nnecticut," said Mr. Penway, finally capitulating.
"What part of Connecticut?"
"I don't know."
"What part of Connecticut?"
"I tell you I don't know. He said: 'I'm off to Connecticut,' and left."
It suddenly struck Mr. Penway that his defeat was not so overwhelming
as he had imagined. "So you haven't got much out of me, you see, after
all," he added.
Mrs. Porter rose.
"On the contrary," she said; "I have got out of you precisely the
information which I required, and in considerably less time than I had
supposed likely. If it interests you, I may tell you that Mr. Winfield
has gone to a small house which he owns in the Connecticut woods."
"Then what," demanded Mr. Penway indignantly, "did you mean by keeping
on saying 'What part of C'nnecticut? What part of C'nnecticut? What
part----'"
"Because Mr. Winfield's destination has only just occurred to me.
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