Miss Dolly came up the stairs slowly; the damp air had made her hair curl at the temples, her damp lashes made her eyes starry. She looked pale, fatigued, very lovely.
“It was horrible, Maggie,” she said. “I could never tell you how horrible… I didn’t like Mr. Angel, I couldn’t. But to see him lying there…”
tell She sat down on Maggie’s couch, and put her hair back from her forehead. “It seems strange…” she said. “I thought I could have a little peace—a little happiness… I need it so… Maggie, do you know why Mr. Angel came here?”
“No, ma’am.”
“He came—he’s dead now, and I don’t want to be bitter—but he came here to ruin everything for me—if he could. You see, an uncle who was very fond of me died last month, and he left me some money; not very much, but enough to give me a little freed
