She was
lively and cordial, as she always was, and is; but as I shook hands
with her and looked her in the eyes she suddenly dropped her eyelids,
and a queer expression crossed her face. She had hold of herself again
in a second and was looking at me and smiling and talking. But that
second was enough. It flashed into my mind that she was the one who 'd
done it. I reckon I would n't have dared to bone her about it if I 'd
waited two minutes. But the impulse took me, and I just asked her
bluntly right then and there if it was she who had transferred that
Greaser from her husband's window to my door.
"She threw up her head and looked me square in the eyes--you know that
straight, frank gaze she has--frowned a little and said, 'Yes, I did
it. I thought your doorway was the rightful place for that corpse to
be found in.'
"Well, the joke of it and the pluck of her just struck me right where I
lived, and I fairly roared. 'Put it there, Mrs. Coolidge,' I said, and
stuck out my hand, as soon as I could speak.
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