Lute moved, but so slowly that his progress to the door took almost a full minute. His wife paid no heed to the pleading looks he gave her and stood majestically waiting until he passed her and crossed the sill. Then she turned to me.
“If you want me, just speak,” she said. “I shall be in the dining-room. There ain't no need for Comfort to know about this. She doesn't know that you've been away and hasn't been worried at all. I'll look out for her. Lute'll be with me, so you needn't fret about him, either.”
She closed the door.
“Now, Captain Dean,” I repeated, “what is it you have to say?”
The captain's grim mouth twisted in a savage sneer.
“You know what I'm goin' to say as well as I do,” he answered.
“Possibly, but you had better say it.”
“It won't take me long. You've sold that Shore Lane land to Jim Colton, ain't you?”
“Yes.”
My calm affirmative seemed to astonish him. I think he expected a denial. His hand left the doorknob and he stepped toward me.