dren were turning out so much better than she'd been afraid, and since she'd come to live with his folks, she appeared to be more reconciled to their inheritance. She didn't seem even to object very much to Phillip's always saying that he wanted to be like his father. But if she knew his father was a criminal she wouldn't want to hear Phillip say it once. If she knew what her children's father really was, it would stop her humming forever. Felix had heard Sheilah humming over her work many times this last year—a low, throaty sound, beautiful, he thought. Like purring. The only way to keep Sheilah humming was to make that insurance policy payable to Mr. Bullard within the next three weeks. Mr. Bullard had assured him he wouldn't tell Sheilah. All Mr. Bullard wanted was the thousand dollars so he could clear up the estate and get away to Europe. Yes, if Felix could just 'slip out,' somehow, within the next fortnight in some natural, normal way, like pneumonia, or a railroad accident, his crime would be wiped out forever. And Sheilah would be safe forever. And free forever, too.
Suddenly Felix stood. Gosh! he hadn't thought of that till now. He had been ransacking his brain since last October, trying to find a way to give Sheilah her freedom without telling her he had found Roger Dallinger's letters.
