Joe sat there a long time thinking.
Finally he got up and went over to the closet as if to effect an entrance, trying several of the keys on his bunch but with no success.
Then he walked up and down.
At times he was dejected and again his face seemed to speak of sudden passion.
Human nature is a strange thing.
A man enters an omnibus and frowns to hear the growls of those comfortably settled as they make room for him—presently another comes in, and his growls at being forced to squeeze into a smaller compass exceed the rest.
Joe, upstairs, discovered the missing key on the dainty dresser of his wife’s room—he took it in his hand, started for the door, stopped, made an impatient gesture, and returned the key to the place where he found it.
“Suspect her—never,” he muttered, and yet at the very moment his feelings had gotten beyond his control—it was pride that kept him from venturing to pry into her secret and discover what lay hidden in the library closet.
Thus Joe had won and lost a victory.