The shock of the woman's words had unsettled his traditions. Not
only was he condemning a man unheard, but a man who, though he
might dislike him, he had for years, for his private virtues,
trusted and admired. The panic passed and with a confident smile he
shook his head.
"I don't believe you," he said quietly.
The manner of the woman was equally calm, equally assured.
"Will you see her?" she asked.
"I'd rather see my brother-in-law," he answered
The woman handed him a card.
"Doctor Muir took him to his private hospital," she said. "I loaned
them my car because it's a limousine. The address is on that card.
But," she added, "both your brother and Sammy-- that's Sam Muir,
the doctor--asked you wouldn't use the telephone; they're afraid of
a leak."
Apparently Wharton did not hear her. As though it were "Exhibit A,"
presented in evidence by the defense, he was studying the card she
had given him. He stuck it in his pocket.
" I'll go to him at once," he said.
To restrain or dissuade him, the woman made no sudden move. In
level tones she said:
"Your brother-in-law asked especially that you wouldn't do that
until you'd fixed it with the girl. Your face is too well known.
He's afraid some one might find out where he is-- and for a day or
two no one must know that."
"This doctor knows it," retorted Wharton.
The suggestion seemed to strike Mrs.
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