John suddenly released himself from Stella’s clinging form and stepped through the door into the hall.
“I’m John Graham. What is It?”
“You’re my prisoner, sir, ye’ll have to come with me!”
“I’m ready.”
The sergeant took a step toward John, drawing a pair of handcuffs from his pocket.
Stella sprang between them, her eyes blazing with rage:
“How dare you enter my house without my permission?”
The sergeant stopped in sheer amazement at the fury of her outburst. Recovering himself with a smile he replied:
“Axin yer pardon m’am, it may be rude, but hit ain’t writ in our book of etiquette ter knock at the front door when we’re huntin’ fer a man charged with murder.”
“But he’s not guilty!” Stella stormed.