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Joe sat as his dying wife's bedside. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "Joe, darling," she breathed, "I've got a confession to make before I go. I ... I'm the one who took the $10,000 from your safe... I spent it on a fling with your best friend, Charles. And it was I who forced your mistress to leave the city. And I am the one who reported your income-tax evasion to the I.R.S..." "That's all right, dearest, don't give it a second thought," whispered Joe. "I'm the one who poisoned you."



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