“What’s the matter, Della?” he asked, coming toward her solicitously.
She started to cry then, and he slid his arm around her shoulders, patting her reassuringly. “What happened?” he asked.
“That t-t-t-two-timing little d-d-d-devil,” she said.
“Who?” Mason asked.
“That librarian, Helen Monteith.”
“What about her, Della?”
“She slipped one over on me.”
“Come on over here; sit down and tell me about it,” Mason said.
“Oh, Chief, I’m so d-d-darned sorry I let you down!”
“How do you figure you let me down, Della? Perhaps you didn’t let me down as much as you think.”