“No,” she said shortly.
“Sit down,” Mason told her, “and tell me about it.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“I think there is.”
“Tell you about what?” she asked defiantly. “If you want to know, I’m really and truly Pete Chennery’s wife. We’re legally married.”
“That,” Mason said, “makes it more conventional, even if less romantic.”
“Are you,” she asked, “going to keep on with that casual Wisecracking until you’ve drawn me out?”
“I think so,” Mason said. “I don’t know of any better way, do you?”
She settled back in a chair, crossed her knees, and said, “Where do you want me to begin?”
“At the beginning.”