“Look out for me—how?”
“Every way. Give yourself to me—be my own, own little Maida——”
“Mr. Keefe, stop! You forget you are talking to an engaged girl——”
“I did forget—please forgive me.” In a moment he was humble and penitent. “I lost my head. No, Miss Wheeler, I ask no reward, I want to help you in any and every way—remembering you are to be the bride of Mr. Allen.”
“Only after I’m acquitted of this crime. They never convict a woman, do they, Mr. Keefe?”
“So that’s what you’re banking on! And safely, too. No, Miss Wheeler, no judge or jury would ever convict you of murder. But, all the same, it’s a mighty unpleasant process that brings about your acquittal, and I advise you not to go through with it.”
“But I’ve got to. I’ve confessed my crime; now they have to try me—don’t they?”
“You innocent baby. Unless—look here, you’re not—er—stringing me, are you?”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean, you didn’t really do the job, did you?”