Someone was opening the front door with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who entered, a little
travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been far from the scene of
the accident, and did not even know there had been one. He stood amazed at Josephine's piercing
cry; at Richards' quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife.
Yazar Hakkında: