But what a monster was this Emile. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it. “Nothing. She had exposed the real story behind Peters tragedy, that dark, handsome Chuck had killed himself by leaving the car running in the garage, not from a “heart attack” as 111 claimed the party line. " "You hear that," whispered Jack.
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