At his feet was a waste-paper basket. Fixed
upon him he saw, while pretending not to see, the eyes of Mrs. Earle
burning with suspicion. If he destroyed the note, he knew suspicion
would become certainty. Without an instant of hesitation, carelessly he
tossed it intact into the waste-paper basket. Toward Rose Gerard he
swung the revolving chair.
"Go on, please," he commanded.
The girl had now reached the climax of her story, but the eyes of Mrs.
Earle betrayed the fact that her thoughts were elsewhere. With an
intense and hungry longing, they were concentrated upon her own
waste-paper basket.
The voice of the girl in anger and defiance recalled Mrs. Earle to the
business of the moment.
"He tried to kill me," shouted Miss Rose. "And his shooting himself in
the shoulder was a bluff. _That's_ my story; that's the story I'm going
to tell the judge"--her voice soared shrilly--"that's the story that's
going to send your brother-in-law to Sing Sing!"
For the first time Mrs. Earle contributed to the general conversation.
"You talk like a fish," she said.
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