"Miss Cornish is going to
hear me talk."
Before he could answer, his sister said calmly: "I think I shall, Vance.
I begin to be intrigued."
"In the first place," he blurted angrily, "it's something you shouldn't
hear--some talk about a murder--"
Elizabeth sank back in her chair and closed her eyes.
"Ah, coward!" cried Kate Pollard, now on her feet.
"Vance, will you leave me for a moment?"
For a moment he was white with malice, staring at the girl, then suddenly
submitting to the inevitable, turned on his heel and left the room.
"Now," said Elizabeth, sitting erect again, "what is it? Why do you
insist on talking to me of--him? And--what has he done?"
In spite of her calm, a quiver of emotion was behind the last words, and
nothing of it escaped Kate Pollard.
"I knew," she said gently, "that _two_ people couldn't live with Terry
for twenty-four years and both hate him, as your brother does. I can tell
you very quickly why I'm here, Miss Cornish."
"But first--what has he done?"
Kate hesitated. Under the iron self-control of the older woman she saw
the hungry heart, and it stirred her.
Pages:
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345