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Updated: June 21, 2025
She had provided herself with that knife beforehand, you see, and she got him out to the dining-room purposely." "I can't think it," I said, and I sighed. "I know Vicky Van fairly well, and she wouldn't " "You can't say what a woman would or wouldn't do. But it's not our business to look after the criminal part of it, we've got all we can handle, attending to the estate. And here's another thing.
Wasn't that sweet of him? You would adore Cuthbert if you knew him as well as I do. But, of course, that's absurd." She suddenly became intense. "Sancie!" she said, then stopped and peered. "Yes?" It was a sobered goddess who waited for close quarters. Vicky put her question, but peered no more. "I wish you would tell me one thing, which has always puzzled me. But don't, if you would rather not.
Ruth Schuyler's influence could work only for good, and a taste of real life would give a wider outlook than Win could get at home. I went down to the coroner's courtroom. The inquest was proceeding in its usual discursive way, and I sat down to listen for a while. The coroner was hearing reports from detectives who had interviewed the market men and shopkeepers where Vicky Van had bought wares.
I would defend her against Vicky Van why, if Ruth was Vicky Van where was this moil to end! I couldn't think coherently. But I suddenly realized that what they told me was true. I realized that all along there were things about Ruth that had reminded me of Vicky. I had never put this into words, never had really sensed it, but I saw now, looking back, that they had much in common. Appearance!
But to me, the idea was ridiculous. A girl, in elaborate evening gown, clambering out of a skylight trap-door, to where? Not to a neighbor's, for Vicky Van knew none of the nearby residents. I had heard her say so, myself. And had she descended into a strange household, and begged for shelter, it would have become known before this.
But I'm going to tell you, right now, about a party I went to there, and you can see for yourself what Vicky Van was like. "How late you're going out," said Winnie, as I slithered into my topcoat. "It's after eleven." "Little girls mustn't make comments on big brothers," I smiled back at her. Win was nineteen and I had attained the mature age of twenty-seven.
Her face was wistful and her eyes very sad. I looked my sympathy. "You liked her, I know," she went on. "But everybody 'most, has turned against her. Since they found the man was Randolph Schuyler, all sympathy is for him and his widow. They all condemn Vicky." "You can scarcely blame them," I began, but she interrupted, "I do blame them! They've no right to accuse that girl unheard."
The sofa and chairs and windows were covered with a chintz in harmony with the walls. "It is cheerful, don't you think so?" asked Miss Thangue, drawing one of the straight curtains aside. "Vicky had all the rooms done over, and I chose the designs. She is quite intolerantly modern, and holds that when wall-paper and chintz can save an old house from looking like a sarcophagus, why not have them?
As Victoria Van Allen I had friends and pleasures that suited my age and my love of life, but there never was anything wrong or guilty in my house " "Until you killed your husband!" interrupted Sarah. "Until the night of Randolph Schuyler's appearance at Vicky Van's house," Ruth went on. "I had been told of a Mr.
Let 'em get it from the papers, or apply to information, or any old way, but don't you two give out a line of talk! See?" I kissed them both, and started off. Of course, I went over to Vicky Van's first. I had been on the proverbial pins and needles to get there ever since I woke to consciousness by reason of the sisterly pounding that brought me from the land of dreams.
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