"I know what I'm saying, Waymark I've only just heard it. She has
come back home from somewhere--only just now--she seems to have
been drinking. It happened in the middle of the day, whilst I was at
the hospital. She gave her in charge to a policeman in the street,
and a brooch was found on her."
"A brooch found on her? Your wife's?"
"Yes. When she came in, she railed at me like a fury, and charged me
with the most monstrous things. I can't and won't go back there
to-night! I shall go mad if I hear her voice. I will walk about the
streets till morning."
"And you tell me that Ida Starr is in custody?"
"She is. My wife accuses her of stealing several things."
"And you believe this?" asked Waymark, under his voice, whilst his
thoughts pictured Ida's poverty, of which he had known nothing, and
led him through a long train of miserable sequences.
"I don't know. I can't say. She says that Ida confessed, and, gave
the brooch up at once. But her devilish malice is equal to anything.
I see into her character as I never did before. Good God, if you
could have seen her face as she told me! And Ida, Ida! I am afraid
of myself, Waymark. If I had stayed to listen another moment, I
should have struck her.
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