I turned on Bogle, “Don’t interrupt the Doctor any more, Bud,” I said. He’s getting tired of it.”
“Yes,” Myra joined in. “Give that big mouth of yours a rest. We’re sick of the sound of your voice.”
Bogle was so surprised that he just sat in a heap, his eyes starting out of his head.
“Okay, Doc,” I said quickly, before Bogle could recover. “The floor’s all yours.”
“Do either of you believe in witchcraft?” Ansell asked.
Myra held up her hand. “I do,” she said. “How else do you explain our Samuel away?” Bogle took off his tie and tried to tear it in half. He was blue in the face with passion. He jerked and pulled at the tie, but it was too strong for him.
Myra said, “Let me,” and snatched the tie out of his hands. She cut it in half with a fruit knife and handed it back to him. “There you are, Sammy,” she said.
Bogle sat in a kind of stupor, staring at the tie. Then he dashed it to the ground.
“Miss Shumway!” Ansell exclaimed angrily. “Will you stop picking on Bogle?”
“Well, I was only trying to be helpful,” Myra said, her eyes wide in innocence. “He couldn’t manage to do it himself.”