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tendency to communicate, considering that communication is your business. You have said
hardly anything at all during cocktails or dinner. Is there a reason for that?"
Dandle looked about him, his face reddening again. It was quite apparent that he flushed
easily, and, like almost all people who do, that he was quite aware of it and seemed the
more embarrassed - and to redden more - because of it. He mumbled something.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Avalon. "I didn't hear you."
Drake, who sat next to his guest, and who looked rather uncomfortable himself, said,
"Jonathan, saying 'I've nothing to say' is no answer."
Dandle said, "It's an answer if that's the answer I choose to give, Jim."
"No," said Drake, peering at his guest out of his wrinkle - nested eyes. "That's not among
the permitted choices, Jonathan. I explained the deal on this meeting. You receive a good
dinner and good company in exchange for substantive answers. No secrets. No evasions.
My own experience is that you've always had plenty to say."
Avalon said, "Let me continue, Jim. - Mr. Dandle, I will accept your answer that you have
nothing to say, though I wish you would speak up so that others besides your immediate
neighbor might hear you. My next question is this: Why is it that you have nothing to say on
this occasion considering that, if we are to believe Jim, such silence is not typical of you?"
Dandle spread out his hands and said loudly enough, "Is a man always accountable for his
actions, Mr. Avalon? Does he always know the origins of his moods?"
Avalon said, "Then let me ask you another question. You did, on one occasion, interject a
question into the general conversation. You asked why we were talking about Poe, and you
did so quite forcibly. I interpreted your remark as indicating that you were offended, perhaps
outraged, by the discussion. Is that so? And if it is so, why?"
Dandle shook his head. "No, no. I just asked."
Trumbull stood up and passed one hand over his tightly waved white hair. He said, with
exaggerated patience. "Jim, as the host, you must make a decision. We are clearly getting
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nothing out of our guest, and I think that, under the rules of the club, we might be forced to
adjourn the meeting now. In fact, I move you consider adjournment."
Drake waved a hand at him petulantly. "Take it easy, Tom. - Jonathan, you've got to answer
honestly. Nothing that is said here will ever be repeated outside these walls. Our waiter,
Henry, is a member of the club and he is as closemouthed as we are. More so. I know you
well enough to know you haven't committed a crime, or are planning to commit one, but even
so, we -"
"You're quite wrong," said Dandle, in a rather more high-pitched voice than before. "I am
trying to commit what I consider a crime. I'm certainly trying to be dishonest."
Drake said, "You?"
"With what I think is considerable justification, of course."
"After that," said Trumbull, "if Mr. Dandle does not care to elaborate, Jim, then we can go
no further."
There was silence. Trumbull remained standing. Drake looked at Dandle and said, "Well,
Jonathan?"
Dandle said, "You told me, Jim, I would be grilled on the details of my profession. I did not
expect this sort of thing."
"It can't be helped. If you had been yourself, none of this would have come up. What's
wrong?"
Dandle looked helpless. He clenched his fist, made as though he was going to bring it
down on the table, stopped the motion, and said, "It's my sister."
"Your crackp -" began Drake, and stopped suddenly.
"My crackpot sister," said Dandle. "She's dying. Cancer."
There was a sudden silence.
"We've known it for months," said Dandle, "and she may live for months more, but it does
produce problems."
The silence continued. Finally, Henry said, "Brandy, gentlemen?"
Avalon said, absently, "Just a small portion, Henry. - What kind of problems, Mr. Dandle?"
"Her will."
"You mean, all this is a matter of money?" said Halsted, with rather more than a shade of
disapproval in his voice.
"Not money at all," said Dandle, lifting his eyebrows. "Please understand, gentlemen, that
my wife and I are well off. We have a son and daughter, but both are grown and both are
reasonably well off. My sister has a house and some money that she inherited from our
parents, but this is not something we lust for. At least, not the money. That she can dispose
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of as she wishes. She can leave it to a farm for homeless cats, if she wishes. It's the house."
He fell into momentary thought. "It was quite clear that she would never marry by the time my
parents died. It made sense to leave the family house to her, even though it was
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