He went a step from her and turned back.
"By the way," he stipulated, "that little matter of the five hundred—you needn't refer to it. I mean it will have to be left out. It's not necessary."
"No; it isn't," she agreed, with perfect indifference. "And it's spent."
When he had telephoned to Sloanehurst and the sheriff's office, he found her with her hat on, ready to accompany him.
As they stepped out of the Walman, she saw the automobile waiting for them. She stopped, a new rage darting from her eyes. He thought she would go back. After a brief hesitation, however, she gave a short, ugly laugh.
"You were as sure as that, were you!" she belittled herself. "Had the car wait—to take me there!"
"By no means," he denied. "I hoped you'd go—that's all."
"That's better," she said, determined to assert her individuality of action. "You're not forcing me into this, you know. I'm doing it, after thinking it out to the last detail—for my own satisfaction."