9 <2> THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF RAY PLOTE Later that night after the dishes were washed and the garbage taken out, Lucy and the Beck's natural daughter retired to their shared bedroom. For thirty years I have lived alone; but once upon a time I lived among men. “Fancy stabbing a man for jealousy!” she thought. Painting is only one slender branch of the great tree. Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction. And yet he knew clearly and definitely what he purposed to do, what the future would be. After knocking for some time at the door without effect, he tried the latch, and to his surprise found it open.
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