"I don't understand." "You understand. I've brought it up before. You spent weeks convincing me I ought to carry through with my internship and establish a practice. You said the time element didn't make any difference to you. You talked me out of the silly idea I had about cashing in on the man with two hearts. I admitted it was a silly idea. I turned away from it completely. Then you did the world's fastest about-face and began asking questions. You began pushing me in the direction you'd been arguing against." Rhoda refused to match his serious mood. She ran a playful hand through his hair. "A woman has a right to change her mind, hasn't she?" "Oh, stop it, Rhoda. You're avoiding the issue." "All right. I still maintain I have a right to change my mind, but in making it all seem completely unnatural you neglected to mention _why_ you changed yours. Because a man named Brent Taber slapped your wrist like a little boy and scared you. It wasn't my influence that turned you around and started you walking the other way. It was a _big_ man from Washington who said naughty, naughty and suddenly you were a nice little intern again, afraid to ask questions." "It was more dangerous than you know, Rhoda." "Oh, I'm sure it was. Do you want another drink?" "No." Frank looked out the window and scowled. "Rhoda, there was something I didn't tell you about that affair." "Was there? I'll bet you told Brent Taber, though." "It was what brought Brent Taber into it. There was a murder in my room." "And when Brent Taber came on the scene--" Rhoda stopped and stared down at him. "What did you say?" "A man was killed in my room. The man with the broken leg. He didn't just go on his way, as I told you; he got his throat cut in my room." Rhoda continued to stare. "And you didn't tell me about it." "Brent Taber told me to keep my mouth shut." "I suppose if Brent Taber had said, 'I don't want you to see that woman again,' you wouldn't even have dropped around to say good-bye." "Rhoda--you're being unreasonable." "Unreasonable to expect the man who says he loves me to confide in me?" "All right. I was wrong. What happened is this: When William Matson was ready to leave Park Hill, he had no place to go, so I took him down to my room. I went back to the hospital and Les King contacted me. He said William Matson was really a man named Sam Baker who'd disappeared from his home in upstate New York ten years ago. We went down to see him and found him sitting in a chair with his throat cut." "You've been involved in a murder and you didn't say a single, solitary word--" "Rhoda! I said I was sorry." "I didn't see anything about it in the papers. I'm sure it wasn't on any of the newscasts."