“How you talk! Why, where should I send him? I told him like as not Ronicky and Sliver and Gus would be down to Lorrimer's—”
The groan of Vic made her stop with a gasp.
“What did he look like?”
Mrs. Sommers was very sober. Her smile congealed.
“Black hair, and young, and good-lookin', and b-b-brown eyes, and—”
“God!”
“Vic,” cried Betty Neal, “what is it!” She looked around her in terror.
“It's Barry.”
He turned towards the door, and then stopped, in an agony of indecision. Betty Neal was before him, blocking the way with her arms outstretched.
“Vic, you shan't go. You shan't go. You've told me yourself that he's sure death.”