"What could Deutch have seen that we didn't see? We were all there—he only went in with us. He may guess something—he can't know. What are we all afraid of?"
"And yet," said Mrs. Deutch, "we are all afraid!"
There was a brisk knock on the door. The newcomer smiled grimly at them from under a dripping hat brim. "I hope I'm welcome," he said. It was the District Attorney.
He seemed to take his own appearance quite naturally and perhaps he was not averse to their being stunned by it. Standing with his back against the door he removed his hat and rubbed his hand over the wet mark across his forehead. "Mrs. Deutch? As soon as my assistants get here I want to try an experiment in the Ingham apartment. You're rather an exceptional—janitress, madam! I think I'm going to ask you at once if there isn't some story connected with your marriage to Hermann Deutch. It looks as though there must have been scandal of some sort to account for it."
The wife's glow of indignation maintained in silence an unruffled dignity. After awhile she said very slowly, "It is true. There was a scandal. It did make our marriage."
Herrick's defensive frown faltered over a sense of something coming true. He knew, now, that he had always felt in that rich simplicity of Henrietta Deutch a superiority somehow mysterious. Yes, he had always seen that figure of domestic tranquillity as not wholly detached from a dense background, somehow somber and mysterious.
"Before you commit yourself on that point, just tell me who or what enforces obedience with a triangular knife?—Let her alone!"
For Mrs. Deutch had uttered a dreadful cry. It was low, but full of incredible pain.
Kane grinned triumphantly at Herrick. "Great heaven!" Herrick begged. "What is it? What do you know?"
"Here! Let's sit down and get at this! Mrs. Deutch, this is nearer than you think to our young lady. Best help me!"