“They’d better not,” said Hetty. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. ” She spoke with a certain asperity. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. you did what you had to do. " "Ah, yes. ‘So it was. You are a detective?" "Yes. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest.
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