“At once he was aflame with suspicion.
“‘So—it’s murder you want!’ he shouted. ‘Well, murder it shall be!’
“I saw death in his eye as he seized my arm. I was defenseless now. The old passion came over him. Before he killed—he—would have his way with me.
“I screamed. With a wild effort I twisted away from him.
“He raised his hand to strike me, I saw his eyes, glassy. Then he sank back—fell to the floor—dead of apoplexy—dead of his furious emotions.
“I fled.
“And now you have found me.”
She had turned, hastily, to leave the room. Kennedy blocked the door.
“Mrs. Moulton,” he said firmly, “listen to me. What was the first question you asked me? ‘Can I trust you?’ And I told you you could. This is no time for—for suicide.” He shot the word out bluntly. “All may not be lost. I have sent for your husband. Muller is outside.”
“Muller?” she cried. “He made the replica.”