In a hostile tone Mrs. Earle addressed her.
"Rose," she said, "this is the district attorney." To him she
added: "She calls herself Rose Gerard."
One hand the girl held close against her side, with the other she
brushed back the hair from her forehead. From half-closed eyes she
stared at Wharton defiantly.
"Well," she challenged, what about it?"
Wharton seated himself in front of the roller-top desk.
"Are you strong enough to tell me?" he asked.
His tone was kind, and this the girl seemed to resent.
"Don't you worry," she sneered, " I'm strong enough. Strong enough
to tell all I know--to you, and to the papers, and to a jury--until
I get justice." She clinched her free hand and feebly shook it at
him. " THAT'S what I'm going to get," she cried, her voice breaking
hysterically, "justice."
From behind the arm-chair in which the girl half-reclined Mrs.
Earle caught the eye of the district attorney and shrugged her
shoulders.
"Just what DID happen?" asked Wharton.
Apparently with an effort the girl pulled herself together.
"I first met your brother-in-law----" she began.
Wharton interrupted quietly.
"Wait!" he said. "You are not talking to me as anybody's
brother-in-law, but as the district attorney."
The girl laughed vindictively.
"I don't wonder you're ashamed of him!" she jeered.
Again she began: "I first met Ham Cutler last May.
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