“More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. ” “I don’t care how we meet,” she said. . Wood, and you'll find that I've spoken the truth. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. The resemblance was amazing! And some man—he was good-looking—was in the background. "Your hesitation convinces me he does," replied the widow. Nobody toys with me. I was his wife. She packed her things, then ran a mile to Julian’s apartment. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss.
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