Aunt Jane tried to tell him something about the missionary meeting and the heathen, and a great famine that was raging.

At first he didn't say anything; then he said, oh, yes, to be sure, how very interesting, and he was glad, very glad.

And Aunt Jane was so disgusted, and accused him of being even more absent-minded than usual, which was entirely unnecessary, she said.
But even that didn't move Father a mite.

He just said, yes, yes, very likely; and went on scowling to himself and stirring his coffee after he'd drank it all up--I mean, stirring where it had been in the cup.
I didn't know but after supper he'd speak to me and ask me to come to the library.

I _hoped_ he would.