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Updated: April 30, 2025
Edwards had writhed, changed color, started to speak and caught himself back, showed all the agony of a clumsy criminal who dreads the probing that may give him away: temperament; the rotten spot in his affairs. Vandeman, younger, not entangled with an unhappy married woman, sat looking me in the eye, still smiling. The blow I had to deal him would be harder.
Man, you've got no human feeling. If you had a shred, you'd know that to her it is as true you tried to take Worth's life with your lying testimony as it is that Vandeman murdered Worth's father with a gun." "Hah!" the doctor panted at me; he was fairly sober, but still a bit thick in the wits. "You people ain't classing me with this crook Vandeman, are you? You can't do that.
But you will come over to our table for a minute anyhow? They're just going to to drink our health Oh, Worth!" That last in a sort of impassioned whisper. And all he answered was, "If I might bring Mr. Boyne with me, Mrs. Vandeman." At her protesting expression, he finished, "Or do I call you Ina, still?"
"Don't, Barbara. Give it up, girl. You can't stand this." Her hands unclasped. Her eyes grew normal. She relaxed, sighingly. I leaned closer while she whispered to me the last addition in that problem of two and two the full solution. Armed, I faced Vandeman once more.
You and I both heard Tom giving her her orders to break with his son, she sniffling and hunting hairpins over the floor and promising that she would." "Cut it out!" yelled Vandeman, as though some one had pinched him. "I saw nothing of the sort. I heard nothing of the sort. Neither did you."
Over the mantel, in front of Barbara as she stood, her back to us all, hung an oil painting one of those family groups same old popper; same old mommer, and a fat baby in a white dress and blue sash. At that, it was good enough to show that the man had some resemblance to Vandeman as he leaned there on the mantel below it, rather encouraging Skeet's enterprise.
When I brought that man and his crime to stand before me, and Bronson Vandeman and his crime to stand beside it as I can bring things when I concentrate on them I found they dove-tailed the impossible was true these two were one man." She looked around at the four of us, wondering at her, and finished, "Can't they take me home now, doctor?" "Sit and rest a few minutes.
Vandeman responded for himself and his bride, appropriately, with what I'd call a sort of acceptable, fabricated geniality.
Vandeman reached out, broke off a flower to fasten in his buttonhole, looking up into his face, talking quickly. Old stuff but always good reliable old stuff. Then Worth saw me and hailed, "Hello, Jerry!" But he did not come to me, and I swung out of the machine to the sidewalk.
I tried to sell him a few shares of stock in the suitcase, so he'll take an interest in the game; but he's too much the tight-wad to buy." "Oh, no," deprecated Vandeman. "Just no gambler; hate to take a chance." He ran his fingers through his hair, tossing it up with a gesture I had noticed when he came back from the dance at Tait's. "All right apology accepted," Worth nodded. "Anyway, you didn't.
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