“When did you look up my mother’s records at the Joliet library, Michelle?” Lucy asked, trying not to incriminate herself by sounding confrontational. ‘Though we might have done, if a certain addlepated clothhead hadn’t let her get away. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. His face darkened. ‘I am not in the least in a rage. It was no use. “You are magnificent,” she said, “but the steel of your truth is a little oversharpened.
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