He shook his head, and passed his hand over his face. "God knows I want to believe that. You're my wife, Mary. I love every bit of you. But Lathrop keeps bobbing up."
The fire crackled like dry leaves, rouging the unhappy walls. "There are more questions?" she wanted to know.
"Yes."
"Ask them."
"Did you know he was going to be on the committee?"
"Of course not."
"Forgive me, Mary, but—but have you spent any extra time with him?"
"Oh John! We talk at the meetings—'Hello—it's a roaring day—have you heard the latest about Ganymede?'"
"That's all?"
"I swear."