"Mind if I come in?"
Still no answer.
He stepped in and sat gingerly on the bed beside her. Several minutes passed. "Want to tell me?" he said gently.
She shook her head violently without looking up.
Suddenly, she turned and pressed her face to his chest. The sobbing subsided a little and her words came haltingly.
"It was awful. He's a subversive—a criminal—and I didn't even guess." She caught her breath. "We flew over to Staten Island. He parked near the water. Then he said, 'I want you to marry me.' Just like that. I liked him a lot—but I didn't know what to say. Then he said—Oh Daddy, it was horrible—" Her sobs increased again and she fumbled for his pocket kerchief. "He—he said, 'Look at this'. And Daddy it was one of those secret bankbooks! He has one hundred thousand dollars—and he's only twenty-five—and he's proud of it! He's worse than the old time gangsters, worse than—oh, Daddy—he's a non-consumer...." The last word trailed off in a wail and she was sobbing again.
J.L. tightened his grip on her shoulders. "Be thankful, Baby," he murmured. "Be thankful you found the dirty so-and-so out in time."