She said, “Morgan was mixed up in this slot-machine business right up to his ears. It’s a sordid story. There’s graft, bribery, and corruption. Those machines were all adjusted so there was a terrific pay-off. They had to be. Morgan had to take care of the police. The places that leased them had to be given a big profit.”

“Nothing particularly unusual about that, is there?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s my first experience with anything of the kind. I was shocked—and Sandra’s changed a lot.”

“Since when?”

“Since two years ago.”

“Is that when she was married? In other words, since her marriage?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know Morgan Birks before they were married?”

“No. I’ve never met him. He didn’t like me.”

“Why?”

“I think Sandra used me as a scapegoat. She wrote me long letters after they were married. You see, she was married on her vacation. She’d been saving her money for three years to make a trip to Honolulu. She met Morgan on the boat. They were married in Honolulu. She sent a wire giving up her job.”

“What were you a scapegoat for?”

“Oh, lots of things,” she evaded.

“Such as what? What’s wrong with the way she acts?”

“Oh, around men. I guess Morgan’s old-fashioned in his ideas, and I guess he’s horribly jealous. He tells Sandra she’s nothing but an exhibitionist.”

“Is she?”

“No, of course not. Sandra’s frank and modern and—well, she doesn’t have any old-fashioned modesty about her body.”

“Didn’t Morgan Birks know that before he married her?”

She smiled and said, “Men like women to be modern with them. It’s when they’re modern with other men that the trouble starts.”

“And Sandra blamed you?” I asked.

“No. But I think Morgan did. He thought someone had undermined Sandra’s feeling about—well, about things like that, and because she’d been rooming with me, Morgan thinks I’m responsible.”

“And how has Sandra changed?”

“I don’t know. She’s grown sort of hard and watchful and shrewd and calculating. She looks at you, and you get the feeling that she’s hiding behind her eyes.”

“When did you notice this?”

“As soon as I saw her again.”

“And when was that?”

“About a week ago when this thing broke. She wrote and asked me to come and stay with her for a while.”

“You’re working?” I asked.

“No—not now. I burnt my bridges. I gave up my job to come and live with Sandra for a while.”

“Do you think that was wise?”

“She told me I could get another job here.”

“Where had you been working?”

“Kansas City.”

“And that was where you met Sandra—where you roomed together?”