enry was large-framed and tall, but a similar experience had worn similar lines in both faces. They looked singularly alike.
Sidney Meeks had the dramatic instinct. He waited for the silence to gather to its utmost intensity before he spoke. "I had something to tell you when I came in," he said, "but I thought I had better wait till after supper."
He paused. There was another silence. Henry's and Sylvia's eyes seemed to wax luminous.
Sidney Meeks spoke again. He was enjoying himself immensely. "What relation is Abrahama White to you?" he said.
"She is second cousin to Sylvia. Her mother was Sylvia's mother's cousin," said Henry. "What of it?"
"Nothing, except--" Meeks waited again. He wished to make a coup. He had an instinct for climaxes. "Abrahama had a shock this morning," he said, suddenly.
"A shock?" said Henry.
Sylvia echoed him. "A shock!" she gasped.
"Yes, I thought you hadn't heard of it."
"I've been in the house all day," said Sylvia. "I hadn't seen a soul before you came