“You’re just being nice because I called you a worm!”
“That would be a strange reason for being nice. Anyhow, I’m not. I’m only trying to help you get started.”
“You don’t need to.” Gwenn’s hands were clasped tight. “I’ve decided. I’m a conceited nosy little fool!”
“You use too many adjectives,” Wolfe said dryly. “For me it was cheap filthy little worm. Now, for you, it is conceited nosy little fool. Let’s just say fool. Why? What about?”
“About everything. About Louis Rony. I knew darned well I wasn’t really in love with him, but I thought I’d teach my father something. If I hadn’t had him there he wouldn’t have thought he could pique me by playing with Connie Emerson, and she wouldn’t have played with him, and he wouldn’t have got killed. Even if everything you said about him is true, it’s my fault he got killed, and what am I going to do?”
Wolfe grunted. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you. How was it your fault that Mr. Kane went to mail some letters and accidentally ran over Mr. Rony?”
She stared. “But you know that’s not true!”
“Yes, but you don’t — or do you?”
“Of course I do!” Her hands came unclasped. “I may be a fool, I guess I can’t go back on that, but I’ve known Webster a long time and I know he couldn’t possibly do such a thing!”
“Anyone can have an accident.”