"Well, there's a pretty black lot of evidence against him. Thérèse's death in itself, the way in which she died, was a damaging admission. It seems to me possible that he'll give up the fight entirely. It's hard to predict anything. One doesn't know what cards he has up his sleeve."
Her clouded gaze strayed past him out of the window at the glimmering points of light.
"There is something still so terrifying to me about his machine-like efficiency," she said, "that I can believe him capable of anything. His whole plan was so perfectly thought out, down to the smallest detail. It only broke down through the purely accidental. Once through my losing the needle—though that wasn't so bad as his losing his temper!—and once because he let Holliday give me the injection instead of doing it himself. And yet when I think of what he may say at the trial…"
He leaned forward suddenly and took her two hands in his.
"Esther, listen to me! Will you promise to marry me, at once, before this beastly trial comes on?"
Once again the wave of colour swept over her face. She gave a little nervous laugh.
"But you haven't asked me at all, yet!"
"I'm asking you now. Besides, you knew I meant to. I've been making inquiries this afternoon. There are a lot of formalities that have to be gone through with: we have to see an English solicitor, sign a lot of papers, be affichéd two Sundays—a sort of banns, you know—and then we have to be married at the mairie. Altogether the business takes just over a couple of weeks, so the sooner one decides the sooner one can set about it, you see?"
She could think of no reply. Her home, her sisters, came into her mind; she stammered, then laughed again with a lump in her throat. Those tears again! She mustn't be so stupid…
There was a sharp rap at the door, more businesslike than the last.