2
When he could no longer stand the uncertainty, Peter Brailsford made his excuses to Milly Vincent,—she of the silly lisp and carrot-colored hair. He stalked from the room while the piano and violin played Strauss, ascended the dark stairs, and stood at the landing watching the clouds scudding across the face of the moon.
The sound of laughter and dancing feet floated up to the unhappy boy. He heard the Strauss waltz vaguely.
He said that he would go away to some other town where no one would know him. He would go to Chicago or even New York. He would go to the farthest ends of the earth and forget that there had ever been a town named Brailsford Junction or a girl named Maxine.
After a few moments he turned from the window and ascended quietly to the upper hall. Scarcely breathing, he put his ear to Maxine's bedroom door. All that he could hear was the throbbing of his own pulse in his ears.
Bud Spillman and Maxine had been drinking. He had seen them slip away together half an hour before, and they had not come back. If he found them together he knew that he would kill them and then himself.
There! The rustle of silk. And now their voices and quiet laughter.
Strangely, he was not angry now. All of his fury was suddenly drained away and he felt empty and shaken. He was amazed to find that the violin was still playing the Strauss waltz.