Bruce was absurdly pleased to find himself alone with her, but Helen’s eyes did not soften and her voice was distant as she said, moving toward the nearest parlor:
“If you have anything to say to me, please be brief. I must be going.”
“I want to know what Sprudell has told you that you should look at me almost as if you hated me?”
“How else would I look at the man who murdered my brother in cold-blood.”
He stared at her blankly in an astonishment too genuine to be feigned.
“I murdered your brother in cold-blood! You are Slim’s sister, then?”
“I’m Frederic Naudain’s sister, if that’s what you mean—his half-sister.”
The light of understanding grew slowly on Bruce’s face. The revelation made many things plain. The difference in the name accounted for his inability to trace her. It was easy enough now to account for Sprudell’s violent opposition to their meeting.
“He told you that it was a premeditated murder?”