"I mean," said she, like the automaton she surely was at that moment, "that he had paid me honorable addresses, and that I had no reason to doubt his motives or my own in seeking such a meeting."
"Miss Dare,"—all the District Attorney spoke in the manner of Mr. Ferris now,—"if you refused Mr. Mansell his ring, you must have returned it to him?"
She looked at him with an anguish that bespoke her full appreciation of all this question implied, but unequivocally bowed her head.
"It was in his possession, then," he continued, "when you left him on that day and returned to your home?"
"Yes," her lips seemed to say, though no distinct utterance came from them.
"And you did not see it again till you found it on the floor of Mrs. Clemmens' dining-room the morning of the murder?"
"No."
"Miss Dare," said he, with greater mildness, after a short pause, "you have answered my somewhat painful inquiries with a straightforwardness I cannot sufficiently commend. If you will now add to my gratitude by telling me whether you have informed any one else of the important facts you have just given me, I will distress you by no further questions."
"Sir," said she, and her attitude showed that she could endure but little more, "I have taken no one else into my confidence. Such knowledge as I had to impart was not matter for idle gossip."
And Mr. Ferris, being thus assured that his own surmises and that of Hickory were correct, bowed with the respect her pale face and rigid attitude seemed to demand, and considerately left the house.