Ben wasn't buying this I thought you knew business, and he remained tense on the edge of the chair. This was another attempt to get a rise out of him, he thought. Implying that he was a terrible husband who ought to be keeping better track of his wife, implying that he was too much of a rake or a drunk to understand what was going on in his own house. Well, she could say what she wanted, and think what she wanted. He just wanted to know if Melody had been here, and he'd gotten his answer. He could head back to the Irvingly house and regroup, collect his thoughts and maybe look for some clue as to where she had gone and plan out his next move from there. He just needed to extricate himself from this conversation now, in the quickest and most polite way possible.

He kept his expression pointedly neutral as Mrs. Finch launched into an explanation of what had happened the night before. She was using words like hysterical to stir him up, and he refused to let it happen. He'd listen, maybe find some indication buried within her words of where his wife might have disappeared to, and then he'd say goodbye and he'd be done with Mrs. Finch forever.

And then she said she is with child. Ben's mind stopped working, his thoughts scattered to the wind like so many seeds. Scared she was that her child — the color had drained from his cheeks, eyes widening slightly — your child...

He didn't even hear the rest. His ears were ringing. When he eventually felt he could speak, the only word he managed was, "What?"