Read Online Another Woman's House by Mignon G. Eberhart - Free Book Online Page A

went directly from school into the army.” Why was he talking so much of Timothy? What of Alice’s release, her exoneration, her return?
    The Governor waited for a moment, with a rather curious look of mingled question and reflection in his face and, in the short silence, Barton came from the hall door. His face was flabby and white with shock, his eyes excited. “You rang, Miss Myra?”
    â€œNo,” said the Governor. “I rang. I think we could do with a drink, if you please.” He looked at Myra. “I think I’d suggest a little brandy for Miss Lane. I’ll take a whisky and soda if you’ll be so good.”
    â€œYes, sir,” said Barton. “Yes, sir.” His voice was breathless. He gave Myra an excited look, wavered indecisively in the doorway, said, “Yes, sir. I’ll bring it at once,” and went away. Willie, puzzled, his tail dejected, crawled out from somewhere and followed Barton soberly.
    â€œShock to your butler, too,” said the Governor. “I thought he’d have a stroke when he opened the door and saw Mrs. Thorne.
    â€œSo you’re Timothy Lane’s sister. Look here, then, you were not in America at the time”—he waved in a broad gesture around the room—“the time all this happened?”
    With an effort again, Myra replied. “No. We were still in England. Aunt Cornelia wished to come as soon as she knew; she’d had an accident and couldn’t.”
    â€œI see. I was sure that neither of you was here at the time of the trial. I was then the prosecuting attorney, you know. Well.” He was silent for a moment again, staring at the rug, rubbing his hands together absently.
    Alice free; Alice exonerated; Alice at home to stay. What were they saying upstairs, Richard and Alice?
    The Governor said suddenly, “I didn’t know that you were Tim Lane’s sister. I think you’d better know the whole story of Mrs. Thorne’s pardon.”
    Timothy again. This time the allusion was too pointed to avoid. She said abruptly, “What has Timothy to do with it?”
    â€œEverything,” said the Governor gravely. Richard came down the stairs and across the hall. The Governor said, “Well, Thorne. I’ve taken the liberty of asking your butler to bring me a drink.”
    Richard was dazed, too. Richard must have the same sense that she had of moving through a dream. He was very white, too; he gave her one swift glance that still did not seem to see her.
    He replied to the Governor, in the kind of voice, Myra thought again, she had heard in her own throat, flat and queer, without resonance or meaning.
    â€œThat’s quite right, sir.” He looked around. “Where is it?”
    â€œHe’s getting it now. I expect you want to know exactly how the thing happened. Did your wife tell you anything of it?”
    â€œShe’s very tired. A maid is with her.” It was as if a stranger spoke, not Richard. He came to stand beside the Governor, his elbow on the mantel. Even his face seemed withdrawn and remote, without emotion or the capacity for emotion. The Governor said, “I’ll give it to you quickly, in a nutshell. Webb Manders, as I told you, has confessed to perjury. Consequently your wife’s conviction was due to fraud.”
    â€œWebb lied!”
    â€œYes. Thus, in fact, she was, well, framed. She was wrongly and illegally imprisoned. He now admits that he did not see your wife shoot Jack Manders, and that he lied when he said that he did. He has signed a statement to that effect.”
    â€œWebb admits perjury!”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œBut she’d never have gone to prison if it hadn’t been for his testimony.”
    â€œExactly. The case against her, except for that, was merely and barely circumstantial. With his testimony those circumstances appeared corroborative; without his testimony the prosecution had no real case. I know,”