In a voice husky with suppressed despair, she answered. Wood uttered something like an imprecation. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. He would go there. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. At that, the girl jumped up. She had exposed the real story behind Peters tragedy, that dark, handsome Chuck had killed himself by leaving the car running in the garage, not from a “heart attack” as 111 claimed the party line. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery.
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