“Not quite. Although she is under strict surveillance at present.”
“What! Can’t she go out, if she likes?”
“No.”
“How perfectly absurd! Oh, I’ve a notion to telephone and ask her to go for a drive. What fun!”
Shane looked at the mischievous face in astonishment. He was experienced in human nature, but this shallow, frivolous attitude toward a tragedy was new to him.
“I thought you and Mrs. Embury were friends,” he said, reprovingly.
“Oh, we are—Or rather, we were. I’m not sure I can know her—after this! But, you see, I can’t take it seriously. I can’t really believe you mean that you think Eunice—guilty! Why, I’d a thousand times rather suspect the old aunt person!”
“You would!” Shane spoke eagerly. “Could that be possible?”
“It could be possible this way,” Fifi was serious now. “You see, Miss Ames adores Eunice. She found it hard to forgive Sanford for his tyrannical ways—and they were tyrannical. And Miss Ames might have, by way of ridding Eunice from a cruel husband—might have—oh, I can’t say it—it sounds too absurd! But, after all, it’s no more absurd than to suspect Eunice. Why don’t you look for somebody else?”
“How could anybody get in?”