“Where have you been, Heloise?”
The sight of his companion in misfortune brought him with a jerk to normal. Heloise was real, something to cling to; he forgot his resentment in the joy of seeing something that anchored him to Gordon Selsbury.
“Say Gordon, that Jane ... she’s Diana, huh?”
He nodded.
“Your wife, you never told me that?”
“She is not my wife ... she has no right here ... if I gave you cause to think I was married it was because I wanted you to go. Don’t you see what you’ve done? You’ve ruined me! If you had only kept away—if you had only kept away!” he moaned.
“She’s your widow,” she was very quiet and restrained. He decided that she had lost her reason.
“Yes, if you like, she’s my widow,” he said soothingly. “Sit down.... I will get you a glass of water.”
“Diana!” said Heloise in wonder. “That’s your little Australian girl.... Gordon, was she a cop?”
“A what?”