Mrs. Gorham glanced up over her spectacles at the circle of faces around the sitting-room table.
He seized Gorham's legs, lifted, then dashed the man's body to the ground.
"Riandar control," he snarled in an imitation of Gorham's voice.
Jolted by the sudden fall, Gorham was quiet for a fraction of a second.
Something must have made Gorham decide to come back and make a separate deal of his own.
Gorham had implied that he was the power behind the whole present regime.
Mr. Gorham smiled, knowing she had been talking every moment for the past half-hour, nevertheless he granted it.
Maybe that blast had killed Gorham and destroyed his evidence.
Silverware is represented by Gorham's at Thirty-sixth Street.
Miss Gorham admitted that she had no idea of Mr. Jones' intentions.