Not at all a clever man--but good as gold, and a far more sensitive person than most people gave him credit for being.
He promised to be fat as years grew on him.

Has he kept his promise?
What is the matter with him ?" I hesitated.

My aunt eyed me sharply, and put another question before I had quite made up my mind what to say.
"If you can't tell me what is the matter with him, can you tell me where he is?
I may want to write to him." I hesitated again.

Mr.Engelman's address had been confidentially communicated to me, for reasons which I was bound to respect.

"I am afraid I can't answer that question either," I said awkwardly enough.
"Good heavens!" cried my aunt, "what does all this mystery mean?
Has Mr.
Engelman killed a man in a duel?
or run away with an opera-dancer?
or squandered the whole profits of the business at the gambling-table?
or what?
As she put these bold views of the case, we heard voices outside, followed by a gentle knock at the door.