'How late you going to stay, Hump?' he asked.
Humphrey raised his eyes, listlessly thrust his pencil back of his ear,
and looked rather thoughtfully at the youth in the doorway; a dapper
youth, in an obviously new 'Fedora' hat, a conspicuous cord of black
silk hanging from his glasses, his little bamboo cane, caught by its
crook in the angle of his elbow.
Humphrey's gaze wandered to the window; settled on the roof of the
Sunbury National Bank opposite. He suppressed a sigh.
'I may want to talk with you, Hen. I've been figuring----'
The youth in the doorway shifted his position with a touch of
impatience.
'See here, Hump, you know I can't make head or tail out of figures!'
Humphrey looked down at the desk.
'Anyway I'll see you at supper,' Henry added defensively.
'Mildred expects me down there for supper,' said Humphrey. The sigh came
now. He pushed up the eyeshade and slowly rubbed his eyes. 'But I may
not be able to get away. There are times, Hen, when you have to look
figures in the face.'