Courtlaw. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times. There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. 175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. His car, a black Alfa Romeo, waited at the end of the subdivision. In the genuinely dissipated face there was always a suggestion of slyness in ambush, peeping out of the wrinkles around the eyes and the lips. “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question.
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