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Dr。 Carl Moss had just gone out of the door cursing me because he had kept his afternoon class of hypochondriacs waiting。 The sweetish smell of his Fatima poisoned the air for me。 I was turning over in what was left of my mind what he had said when I asked him how long it would take Merle to get well。
〃It depends what you mean by well。 She'll always be high on nerves and low on animal emotion。 She'll always breathe thin air and smell snow。 She'd have made a perfect nun。 The religious dream； with its narrowness； its stylized emotions and it grim purity； would have been a perfect release for her。 As it is she will probably turn out to be one of these acidfaced virgins that sit behind little desks in public libraries and stamp dates in books。〃
〃She's not that bad；〃 I had said； but he had just grinned at me with his wise Jew face and gone out of the door。 〃And besides how do you know they are virgins？〃 I added to the closed door； but that didn't get me any farther。
I lit a cigarette and wandered over to the window and after a while she came through the doorway from the bed room part of the apartment and stood there looking at me with her eyes dark…ringed and a pale posed little face without any makeup except on the lips。
〃Put some rouge on your cheeks；〃 I told her。 〃You look like the snow maiden after a hard night with the fishing fleet。〃
So she went back and put some rouge on her cheeks。 When she came back again she looked at the luggage and said softly： 〃Leslie lent me two of his suitcases。〃
I said： 〃Yeah；〃 and looked her over。 She looked very nice。 She had a pair of long…waisted rust…colored slacks on； and Bata shoes and a brown and white print shirt and an orange scarf。 She didn't have her glasses on。 Her large clear cobalt eyes had a slightly dopey look； but not more than you would expect。 Her hair was dragged down tight； but I couldn't do anything much about that。
〃I've been a terrible nuisance；〃 she said。 〃I'm terribly sorry。〃
〃Nonsense。 I talked to your father and mother both。 They're tickled to death。 They've only seen you twice in over eight years and they feel as if they had almost lost you。〃
〃I'll love seeing them for a while；〃 she said； looking down at the carpet。 〃It's very kind of Mrs。 Murdock to let me go。 She's never been able to spare me for long。〃 She moved her legs as if she wondered what to do with them in slacks； although they were her slacks and she must have had to face the problem before。 She finally put her knees close together and clasped her hands on top of them。
〃Any little talking we might have to do；〃 I said； 〃or anything you might want to say to me； let's get it over with now。 Because I'm not driving halfway across the United States with a nervous breakdown in the seat beside me。〃
She bit a knuckle and sneaked a couple of quick looks at me around the side of the knuckle。 〃Last night〃 she said； and stopped and colored。
〃Let's use a little of the old acid；〃 I said。 〃Last night you told me you killed Vannier and then you told me you didn't。 I know you didn't。 That's settled。〃
She dropped the knuckle； looked at me levelly； quiet； posed and the hands on her knees now not straining at all。
〃Vannier was dead a long time before you got there。 You went there to give him some money for Mrs。 Murdock。〃
〃Nofor me；〃 she said。 〃Although of course it was Mrs。 Murdock's money。 I owe her more than I'll ever be able to repay。 Of course she doesn't give me much salary； but that would hardly〃
I said roughly： 〃Her not giving you much salary is a characteristic touch and your owing her more than you can ever repay is more truth than poetry。 It would take the Yankee outfield with two bats each to give her what she has ing from you。 However； that's unimportant now。 Vannier mitted suicide because he had got caught out in a crooked job。 That's flat and final。 The way you behaved was more or less an act。 You got a severe nervous shock seeing his leering dead face in a mirror and that shock merged into another one a long time ago and you just dramatized it in your screwy little way。〃
She looked at me shyly and nodded her copper…blond head； as if in agreement。
〃And you didn't push Horace Bright out of any window；〃 I said。
Her face jumped then and turned startlingly pale。 〃II〃 her hand went to her mouth and stayed there and her shocked eyes looked at me over it。
〃I wouldn't be doing this；〃 I said； 〃if Dr。 Moss hadn't said it would be all right and we might as well hand it to you now。 I think maybe you think you killed Horace Bright。 You had a motive and an opportunity and just for a second I think you might have had the impulse to take advantage of the opportunity。 But it wouldn't be in your nature。 At the last minute you would hold back。 But at that last minute probably something snapped and you pulled a faint。 He did actually fall； of course； but you were not the one that pushed him。〃
I held it a moment and watched the hand drop down again to join the other one and the two of them twine together and pull hard on each other。
〃You were made to think you had pushed him；〃 I said。 〃It was done with care； deliberation and the sort of quiet ruthlessness you only find in a certain kind of woman dealing with another woman。 You wouldn't think of jealousy to look at Mrs。 Murdock nowbut if that was a motive； she had it。 She had a better onefifty thousand dollars' life insuranceall that was left from a ruined fortune。 She had the strange wild possessive love for her son such women have。 She's cold； bitter； unscrupulous and she used you without mercy or pity； as insurance； in case Vannier ever blew his top。 You were just a scapegoat to her。 If you want to e out of this pallid sub…emotional life you have been living； you have got to realize and believe what I am telling you。 I know it's tough。〃
〃It's utterly impossible；〃 she said quietly； looking at the bridge of my nose； 〃Mrs。 Murdock has been wonderful to me always。 It's true I never remembered very wellbut you shouldn't say such awful things about people。〃
I got out the white envelope that had been in the back of Vannier's picture。 Two prints in it and a negative。 I stood in front of her and put a print on her lap。
〃Okay； look at it。 Vannier took it from across the street。〃 She looked at it。 〃Why that's Mr。 Bright；〃 she said。 〃It's not a very good picture； is it？ And that's Mrs。 MurdockMrs。 Bright she was thenright behind him。 Mr。 Bright looks mad。〃 She looked up at me with a sort of mild curiosity。
〃If he looks mad there；〃 I said； 〃you ought to have seen him a few seconds later； when he bounced。〃
〃When he what？〃
〃Look；〃 I said； and there was a kind of desperation in my voice now； 〃that is a snapshot of Mrs。 Elizabeth Bright Murdock giving her first husband the heave out of his office window。 He's falling。 Look at the position of his hands。 He's screaming with fear。 She is behind him and her face is hard with rageor something。 Don't you get it at all？ This is what Vannier has had for proof all these years。 The Murdocks never saw it； never really believed it existed。 But it did。 I found it last night； by a fluke of the same sort that was involved in the taking of the picture。 Which