"You do lie! What proof have you?"
"Enough and to spare--for him, for me, and for you."
"Out with it, then. Let's hear what some of it's like."
Mrs. Carruth was standing by the little centre table. Rising from his chair, Mr. Haines went and stood at the other side of it. Resting his hands on the edges, he leaned over it towards her.
"Have you heard of the Three Bridges tragedy?"
She looked at him just once. In that one look she saw something, on his face or in his eyes, which, to use an expressive idiom, seemed to take the stiffening all out of her. She dropped into a chair as if he had knocked her into it. She caught at the arms. Her complexion assumed a curious tinge of yellow. There was a moment's pause. Then, from between her rigid lips, there came one word.
"Yes."
"The woman who was killed was Loo--my Loo."
She shuddered, as if attacked by sudden ague.
"It's a lie!"