“I think—yes, I will tell you,” she nodded, her cheeks very pink; “but I wanted to be—over here to tell it.”
“’Way over there?”
“Yes, ’way over here. Do you remember those letters I got awhile ago, and the call from the Boston; lawyer, that I—I wouldn’t tell you about?”
“I should say I did!”
“Well; you know you—you thought they—they had something to do with—my money; that I—I’d lost some.”
“I did, dear.”
“Well, they—they did have something to do—with money.”
“I knew they did!” triumphed the man. “Oh, why wouldn’t you tell me then—and let me help you some way?”
She shook her head nervously and backed nearer the door. He had half started from his seat.
“No, stay there. If you don’t—I won’t tell you.”