“A lot,” said Polly frankly, “an awful lot. But what’s the use! He was backing us, of course, you know that—had been for a long while. We wanted help—we’re on our uppers now. We heard he was in here, and we came in ourselves to have a little talk with him over things. We were over on the railroad, don’t you see? We’ve had bad business all along for weeks. The war knocked us out. Oh, I tell you, we knew nothing about this—we hadn’t heard of any accident. And Jimmy was such a good chap!”
“I presume you refer to my husband when you say Jimmy? Yes?” Marcia’s voice was not only icy, but worse.
“Well,” resumed Polly uneasily, “I’ve known him for a long time, you see.”
“I know all about the length—and the nature—of your acquaintance with my husband, Miss Pendleton.”
“My real name is Amanda Brown,” said Polly, calmly.
“Yes, Miss Brown? I don’t know whether or not my husband has made any provision for you in his will. I haven’t been made fully acquainted with the nature of his will. My lawyers have asked me to come back at once, but I have been stopping on here. It was hard—I was not quite ready to go away from him. He needed some one to watch him, don’t you think?
“Now,” she went on, “I have been obliged to meet you——”
“Well,” said Polly, with a shrug, “we wouldn’t have been so apt to meet back in the city.”
“Hardly, I fear.”
Polly reddened a little at this. “You don’t like me, Mrs. Haddon, do you?” said she directly.