“What difference does it make?”
“I’m askin’ you something. Where’d you do the celebrating? Was it in a hotel room?”
He shook his head. Again he gave a heavy sigh. He said, “We went to Dugan’s Den.”
“Then where’d you go?”
His jaw hardened. “All right,” he muttered, “let’s drop the questions.”
“You’ll sit there and answer them. You’ll tell me where you went after you left Dugan’s Den.”
He turned and frowned at her. “What’re you getting at?”
She wasn’t looking at him. Her voice was a grinding whisper. “You know what I’m getting at. You’ve told me about the license and the ring. And the celebration. Now I want to hear the rest of it. I want to know all about the wedding night.”
He aimed the frown at the floor. “We didn’t do anything, if that’s what you mean.”
She let go of the bedpost. She breathed in and out and it was almost like a sigh of relief. The corners of her mouth moved up just a trifle, starting to build a smile.