“I admired her, Nan. Mebbe I loved her. I loved my baby. She said I loved the baby more than I did her. Women get queer notions. Do you get queer notions, Nan?”
“About what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. That was a foolish question. Didja ever have a sweetheart, Nan?”
“I suppose I have,” laughed Nan.
“Didja love him?”
“I don’t think I did, Len.”
“Uh-huh. My wife used to tell about the sweethearts she had. I reckon she kept quite a tally. But she said she never loved one, until she met me. If that was the case, God was mighty good to them other boys.”
“Did she sell everything you owned, Len?”
“Shore. I had a house in town, too. Wasn’t worth much, but she sold it. She took what money I had in the bank. Whisperin’ says she wasn’t satisfied with what she got. There was another bank roll, and she thought it was where she could get it, but it wasn’t in sight. Baggs, yore lawyer, wrote me a letter, askin’ where it was. I reckon she hired him to write the letter.”
“You didn’t tell him, did you, Len?”