"Not that I go on binges, much," explained Vicky, turning her candid dark-blue eyes towards Courtney, and smiling, "but I do remember one at New Year's, when Arthur and I were first married. I don't think he ever forgave me. His suits are still over in that wardrobe. Get me some water, will you? It hurts to swallow; but my throat's so dry I've just got to have it."
Ann poured out a quarter of a tumbler of water from the carafe on the bedside-table. Holding the glass in both hands, Vicky drank. She was fighting with all the vigor of her nature to keep herself steady.
"Don't ever be hypnotized, Ann," she advised, handing the glass back. "At least, if you're made to do what I was. It's not nice."
"And what are you going to do now?"
"I'm going to marry Frank," answered Vicky, with flat candor. "That is, if I think it won't hurt his career. But if there's scandal, and I think it will hurt his career, I'm going to take a place near where he's stationed, and live with him… Does that seem very dreadful to you, Phil Courtney?"
He returned her smile.
"Not at all. But I think you'd both be happier married. There's no objection to the other thing, except that it so seldom works out."
Vicky clenched her fists.
"If we could only—" She lowered her voice. "If we could only find the beast who's doing this! The person behind it… The cruel, clever beast who made me kill Arthur, and then tried to get rid of me with what they say is the most painful poison there is. That's what I can't forgive. The pain."
"So the police did tell you, then," breathed Ann.