"Don't you worry," she sneered, "I'm strong enough. Strong enough to tell all I know—to you, and to the papers, and to a jury—until I get justice." She clinched her free hand and feebly shook it at him. "That's what I'm going to get," she cried, her voice breaking hysterically, "justice."
From behind the armchair in which the girl half-reclined Mrs. Earle caught the eye of the district attorney and shrugged her shoulders.
"Just what did happen?" asked Wharton.
Apparently with an effort the girl pulled herself together.
"I first met your brother-in-law—" she began.
Wharton interrupted quietly.
"Wait!" he said. "You are not talking to me as anybody's brother-in-law, but as the district attorney."
The girl laughed vindictively.
"I don't wonder you're ashamed of him!" she jeered.
Again she began: "I first met Ham Cutler last May. He wanted to marry me then. He told me he was not a married man."