He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. She shrugged her shoulders. “I am so sorry to have startled you,” she said, “but I was startled myself. ” She replied. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. " "I am a thief, nevertheless.
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