She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. \" \"I'm sorry I didn't call. There must be ways of getting rid of him. Ennison listened, and his eyes glowed. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets.
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