When he had first seen Mrs. Quest that afternoon she and Cossey were
alone together, and he had noticed something unusual about her,
something unnatural and intense. Indeed, he remembered he had told her
that she looked like the Tragic Muse. Could it be that the look was
the look of a woman maddened by insult and jealousy, who was
meditating some fearful crime? /How did that gun go off?/ He did not
see it, and he thanked heaven that he did not, for we are not always
so anxious to bring our fellow creatures to justice as we might be,
especially when they happen to be young and lovely women. How did it
go off? She understood guns; he could see that from the way she
handled it. Was it likely that it exploded of itself, or owing to an
accidental touch of the trigger? It was possible, but not likely.
Still, such things have been known to happen, and it would be very
difficult to prove that it had not happened in this case. If it should
be attempted murder it was very cleverly managed, because nobody could
prove that it was not accidental. But could it be that this soft,
beautiful, baby-faced woman had on the spur of the moment taken
advantage of his loaded gun to wreak her jealousy and her wrongs upon
her faithless lover? Well, the face is no mirror of the quality of the
soul within, and it was possible.
Pages:
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343