“Evelyn sent a bank draft to Tyler every month,” I said, nearly shouting now.

“Arthur made up a story about a trust fund, and you signed papers for strangers.

Tell me the truth, I suppose.”

Betty Miller and Frank Hodges stopped beside the garden gate.

Betty was carrying a tray of sandwiches.

They were both staring at us.

Higgins stopped and looked over at his audience.

“You’re making an awful scene,” Higgins said quietly.