More than ever a sense of confusion was upon Ennison. She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. Why don’t you make sure before you rush out like that upon a stranger?” “You were with my wife,” Hill repeated sullenly. “A bad thing for me when that legacy came. Celeste introduced him to me—oh, how Celeste hated me! She must have known. "Fold it … under the pillow.
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