“So silly that you should be suspected of committing a murder?” Rosalie nodded. Then she burst out again: “I’ve tried so hard to—keep everyone from knowing . . . It isn’t really her fault. She got discouraged. Her books didn’t sell anymore. People are tired of all that cheap sex stuff . . . It hurt her—it hurt her dreadfully. And so she began to—to drink. For a long time I didn’t know why she was so queer. Then, when I found out, I tried to—to stop it.
