Section 2. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. ” He left off abruptly. The daughters, he had hoped, would be their mother’s care. Impressed with this idea, he paused for a moment to listen. He has told me sufficient of you—" "My dear," interposed Wood, "for goodness' sake—" "I will speak," screamed his wife, totally disregarding the interruption; "I will tell this worthless creature what I know about her,—and what I think of her.
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