"No, it came before he met her."
"Ah! Which one of you was responsible for it?"
"I don't know; really, I don't know," she insisted with a weary gesture.
"Then I must do what I can to make you know," he replied impatiently, and reaching forward, he pressed the electric bell.
"Bring back the prisoner," he ordered, as the guard appeared, and a moment later Kittredge was again in his place beside Maître Pleindeaux, with the woman a few feet distant.
"Now," began Hauteville, addressing both Lloyd and Mrs. Wilmott, "I come to an important point. I have here a packet of letters written by you, Kittredge, to this lady. You have already identified the handwriting as your own; and you, madam, will not deny that these letters were addressed to you. You admit that, do you not?"
"Yes," answered Pussy weakly.
The judge turned over the letters and selected one from which he read a passage full of passion. "Would any man write words like that to a woman unless he were her lover? Do you think he would?" He turned to Mrs. Wilmott, who sat silent, her eyes on the floor. "What do you say, Kittredge?"
Lloyd met the judge's eyes unflinchingly, but he did not answer.
Again Hauteville turned over the letters and selected another one.