It took unusual circumstances to betray Elly into that much effort. “Heavens, isn’t it awful! On the radio and in this evening’s paper. Now there was a man.” “Sure was.” “A man with a lot of juice. A real man—type man like my Sam was. Once we didn’t have a jack and Sam held up the front end of the car while Terry changed the tire.” “Uh-huh.” “Who do you think gigged him, Andy? A real crime of passion, I’ll say. With a woman in it someplace. God, you got a long pair of legs on you. You watch. A woman, and I’ll betcha bottle of rye.” “No bet.” “Then you know! Come on, Andy. Tell old Elly.” I went on in and back to the phone on the hall table and picked it up. “This is Andy McClintock.” The voice was lost, and far, far away, as it said, “Andy. This is Mary Eleanor.” “Oh. How are you feeling?” “Far away from myself. Like I was two people. Oh, Andy, it’s so dreadful. Could you come over?” “I guess so. You sure you want to see me?”
