CHAPTER 14
The talk was fitful in the living room. Elizabeth Cornish did her best to
revive the happiness of her guests, but she herself was a prey to the
same subdued excitement which showed in the faces of the others. A
restraint had been taken away by the disappearance of both the storm
centers of the dinner—the sheriff and Terry. Therefore it was possible
to talk freely. And people talked. But not loudly. They were prone to
gather in little familiar groups and discuss in a whisper how Terry had
risen and spoken before them. Now and then someone, for the sake of
politeness, strove to open a general theme of conversation, but it died
away like a ripple on a placid pond.
“But what I can’t understand,” said Elizabeth to Vance when she was able
to maneuver him to her side later
