"Yes, spoons, forks and things—" He broke off exasperated. "Oh, Una, it's cruel of you?"
"No, kind. Sagorski is a smudgy page, Jerry. I happened to have seen it in the records. And there's a woman at the Mission—"
It was Una's turn to pause in sudden solemnity.
"A woman. His wife?" asked Jerry.
"No, just a woman."
"He had treated her badly?"
"Her soul," she replied slowly, "is dead. Her body doesn't matter."
She must have been thankful for the silence that followed? for the look of bewilderment, piteous, I think, it must now have seemed to Una, was in his face again. And before he could question further she had turned the topic.
A little later, I think, personalities began again.
"You're always helping people, Una, always helping," he said slowly. "Does it make you happy?"