He wheeled quickly, and what he said made me feel as if a cold wind were blowing up the back of my neck, because I hadn't dreamed that he would remember Collingwood well enough to recognize him in that passing moment on the sidewalk.
"That man," he muttered, sort of gratingly: "I had completely forgotten. He was here just a little while ago. I met him as I was coming in. Did he come to see your cousin—the major?"
"No," she said, matching his low tone; "he came to see me."
"You?"
"Yes. Finding himself in a pitfall which he has digged with his own hands, he is like other men of his kind; he would be very glad to climb out upon the shoulders of a woman."
I guess the boss saw red for a minute, but the question he asked had to come.
"By what right did he come to you, Sheila?"
"By what he doubtless thinks is the best right in the world. He is my husband."
It was out at last, and the boss's poor little house of cards that I knew he had been building all these months had got its knock-down in just those four quietly spoken words. Maisie Ann was still gripping my wrist, and I felt a hot tear go splash on my hand. "Oh, I could kill him!" she whispered, meaning Collingwood, I suppose.
As well as I knew him, I couldn't begin to guess what the boss would do or say. But he was such a splendid fighter that I might have known.