(He wasn't there hardly long enough to speak, anyway, and he never ate a thing, only his coffee--I mean he drank it.) Then he pushed his chair back from the table and stalked out of the room.
He went to the station with me; but he didn't talk there much, only to ask if I was sure I hadn't forgotten anything, and was I warmly clad.
Warmly clad, indeed! And there it was still August, and hot as it could be! But that only goes to show how absent-minded he was, and how little he was really thinking of _me_! Well, of course, he got my ticket and checked my trunk, and did all those proper, necessary things; then we sat down to wait for the train.

But did he stay with me and talk to me and tell me how glad he had been to have me with him, and how sorry he was to have me go, and all the other nice, polite things 'most everybody thinks they've got to say when a visitor goes away?
He did not.

He asked me again if I was sure I had not left anything, and was I warmly clad; then he took out his newspaper and began to read.

That is, he pretended to read; but I don't believe he read much, for he never turned the sheet once; and twice, when I looked at him, he was looking fixedly at me, as if he was thinking of something.

So I guess he was just pretending to read, so he wouldn't have to talk to me.
But he didn't even do that long, for he got up and went over and looked at a map hanging on the wall opposite, and at a big time-table near the other corner.