Her thin fingers were armed with nails as long as the talons of a bird. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. I would like to talk to you about this—soon. But I see now. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. The only thing they don’t fight over is the addition. “It’s all dirt that washes off, dear, but it’s dirt. Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging.
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