Mrs. Dearborne said confidently, “Arthur will be down after dinner.”
There was just a subtle accent on the word dinner.
“What about Helen Framley herself?” I asked Ogden.
He said, “She’s typical,” and then gave a little laugh.
“Of what?”
“Of a type you’ll find here in town.”
“What sort of type?”
He hesitated as though trying to find words.
Eloise said promptly, “A tart.”
Ogden said, “A man came in while I was talking with her. I think — well; he doesn’t seem to be her husband but—”