He took his hand from Effie Perine’s head and entered the inner office, shutting

the door. Iva came quickly to him, raising her sad face for his kiss. Her arms

were around him before his held her. When they had kissed he made a little

movement as if to release her, but she pressed her face to his chest and began

sobbing.

 

He stroked her round back, saying: “Poor darling.” His voice was tender.

 

His eyes, squinting at the desk that had been his partner’s, across the room

from his own, were angry. He drew his lips back over his teeth in an impatient

grimace and turned his chin aside to avoid contact with the crown of her hat.

“Did you send for Miles’s brother?” he asked.

 

“Yes, he came over this morning.” The words were blurred by her sobbing and his

coat against her mouth.

 

He grimaced again and bent his head for a surreptitious look at the watch on his

wrist. His left arm was around her, the hand on her left shoulder. His cuff was

pulled back far enough to leave the watch uncovered. It showed ten-ten.

 

The woman stirred in his arms and raised her face again. Her blue eyes were wet,

round, and white-ringed. Her mouth was moist.

 

“Oh, Sam,” she moaned, “did you kill him?”