“This recalls old times. Isn’t it three or four years since we have danced together?” he asked. “Or is it three or four hundred?”
“Thank you! I am glad you realize what you have missed.”
“You do dance like an angel, Miss Molly, and it’s a sin to squander such talent on me. I wish you would try it with Judd; my sisters say his dancing is a revelation.”
“Judd, the murderer?”
“Who told you that?”
“Horace Bennett.”
“I might have guessed it. Truth and Horace were never chums. Judd bears the same relation to Horace as sunshine to a damp cellar.”
As the music ceased they strolled to a little divan at the end of the room.
“He did kill a man, a classmate, but he had the sympathies of his entire class. It was partly an accident, anyway.”
“I am glad for his sake, as there seems to be a prejudice against murder.”