” “Sooner or later. Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. She had never imagined life was half so sinister as it looked to her in the beginning of these investigations. "My mother is avenged. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. Nobody toys with me.
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