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 on in the church. I guess it wouldn't be the first time."

He didn't care what she was saying, though the sound of her voice and the look in her cold blue eyes made him want to strangle her.

"They aren't there. I've just come from the church."

He fancied that he heard her chuckle wickedly, but he couldn't be certain. He heard her saying, "Then he's done it. I always knew it would happen."

He seized her by the shoulders. "Done what? What do you mean?"

"Let go of me, young man! Why, he's run off with your wife, you fool! I always knew he'd do it some day. Oh, I knew him . . . Samuel Castor . . . I haven't been married to him for fifteen years for nothing!"

He wanted to shake her again, to make her talk. "If you knew, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it might have been any woman. It wasn't just your wife. I wasn't sure who it would be." She began to laugh again, a high, cackling laugh. "I told him he'd do it. I told him so every night. I knew it was going to happen." She seemed to find delight in her horrible triumph.

"Where have they gone?"

"How do I know where they've gone? He's gone to hell for sure now, where he can't torment me any more. He's left me—a poor invalid . . . without a cent or any one to look after me. God knows what'll become of me now. But he's done it. I always told him he would. He's a fine man of God! He's left a poor invalid wife . . . penniless and sick." 