She looked at him incredulously.
“We were down to a handful, and I fed it to a band of mountain-sheep that came to the cabin. I had no business to do it.”
“You said that he went crazy—do you mean actually?”
“Actually—a maniac—raving.”
“Then why do you blame yourself so much?”
“Because I should have pulled out when I saw how things were going. We had quarrelled before over trifles and I knew he would be furious. You can’t blame me more than I blame myself, Miss Dunbar. I suppose you think they should hang me?” There was a pleading note in the question and he wiped the perspiration from his forehead while he waited for her answer.
She did not reply immediately but when she finally looked him squarely in the eyes and said quietly: “No, because I believe you,” Bruce thought his heart turned over with relief and joy.
“What you have told me shows merely that he had not changed—that my hopes for him were quite without foundation. Even as a child he had a disposition—a temper, that was little short of diabolical. We have all been the victims of it. I should not want to see another. He disgraced and ruined us financially. Now,” Helen said rising, “you must go back to your friends. I’ll take a taxicab home—”
“Please let me go with you. They can wait for me—or something,” he added vaguely. The thought of losing sight of her frightened him.