Frederick wheeled around desperately. Madelene was placing him at the extreme of his endurance. Human nature could bear no more.
"Oh, my God, such a woman!" he exclaimed.
"There, you see!" gasped Madelene. "He won't listen to a thing against her, and he's been acting as guilty as he could all the way home.... No wonder I don't believe a word he says!"
Mrs. Waldstricker picked up her work, folded it, and laid it on the table.
"But, Madelene, it's so bewildering," she exclaimed. "Tell us, dear, just what happened."
Between sobs and tears Madelene went over the trial she had passed through, and continued, "While we were abroad, I thought there was something the matter with him, and I know one day he got a letter. He wouldn't let me see it, though I begged him to. Now, I know it was from her!" The speaker flung about upon her sister-in-law. "If you could have seen her today, Helen, the shameless thing! She didn't even have the grace to say she was sorry for anything she'd done."
"She probably wasn't," monotoned Waldstricker. Then he looked directly at his wife. "I've often argued with your brother about those squatters. They're a pest to the county. Deforrest—"
"Oh, don't blame Deforrest, Ebenezer," Helen interjected agitatedly. "He's so good at heart, and he did all he could for the little Skinner girl. I know there's some mistake. I'll go down and see her tomorrow."
"You'll do no such thing," he retorted. "Don't dare go near—her!"