27The sharp swish-swish, swish-swish of the stream of cars crossing the Massachusetts Avenue bridge sounded loud enough, in the silence in which we sat for a moment, unbelieving but appalled, to have been in the Hallets’ vestibule.
I don’t remember much about that exact moment, except that Susan Kent sat absolutely motionless, and that Ellery Seymour stood staring at Dorothy, completely stunned, and then sat down abruptly, his face gray as ashes. His lips were working, but if any sound came out of them I couldn’t hear it. His body twitched as if a series of electric shocks were going through it. He was totally unnerved and shattered.
“Stop it, Ellery, and Susan—both of you,” Dorothy said. “Stop it, and listen to me. It’s all crazy about Bill, it doesn’t make sense—it can’t make sense! Su
