“I told you once I’m not an assassin––how dare 235 you ask me to do such a thing?” she cried furiously.
“Call your uncle,” he suggested coolly. “You may hold this meantime so you’ll know he’s in no danger. Take my gun and call your uncle–––”
“Shame on you!”
“Call Gale––call any man in the Gap––they’ll jump at the chance.”
“You are a cold-blooded, brutal wretch––I’m sorry I ever helped you––I’m sorry I ever let you help me––I’m sorry I ever saw you!”
She sprang away before he could interpose a word. He stood stunned by the suddenness of her outburst, trying to listen and to breathe at the same time. He heard the front door close, and stood waiting. But no further sound from the house greeted his ears.
“And I thought,” he muttered to himself, “that might calm her down a little. I’m certainly in wrong, now.”