Both men turned and Bernard heaved himself to his feet. In the doorway stood Elsa and Mrs. Bernard, the one, who had just spoken, radiating force and a blunt sort of charm; the other a little flushed and prettier than ever.
“Harrison the millionaire,” said Landis quickly. “He was shot tonight and I’ve got the case. Of course, I’d like Mr. Bernard to help me, just as he—er—helped with the Carson case.” He smiled engagingly at Mrs. Bernard.
She looked with swift surprise at her husband. After an instant her expression changed and grew subtly questioning. Bernard shook his head.
“He’s trying to drag an old hulk out of harbor, Marion! Nice I’d look, leaving you!”
There was a little pause.
“Do you want to go, Paul?”
He turned away to knock the dottle out of his pipe. “Certainly not, my dear! The boy’s crazy—”
His wife strode forward and put her hands on his shoulders. She was very tall for a woman but he was nearly a head taller and half again as broad in his massive old shoulders. She turned him about and looked up at him.
“If you want to go, go! Hunting man is in your blood just as hunting animals is in mine. Think I care if it’s dangerous? Think I’m the kind of woman to keep a man tied to her apron strings—a man, Paul?” she demanded.