“My dear Mrs. Baxter, let me explain to you—”
“Explain! What is there to explain? This man’s killed my husband. I’ll sue him, I’ll make him pay for it.”
“Pardon me, one word—”
The widow raised her hands and patted Steel solemnly on the shoulders.
“You’ve done your duty by me, doctor, for I reckon it isn’t proper to tell tales of the profession. Now, listen, I’ll relate what Jane Baxter’s going to do.”
Steel’s silence welcomed the confession.
“Well, I’m going to order the market-trap out, the trap my poor Tom used to drive in to Roxton every Monday, the Lord have pity on him!—”
“Yes.”
“I’m going straight to call at Lawyer Cranston’s.”
“Indeed!”