"You're a nice one to preach, you are," she cried hysterically, "you, with a man's blood upon your hands! You, a murderer! Degraded indeed! What were his poor sins compared with yours?"
The Colonel shook his head sadly.
"I am afraid, my dear young lady," he said, "that I should never be able to convert you to my point of view. You are naturally prejudiced, and when I consider that I have failed to convince my own daughter"—he glanced towards Louise—"of the soundness of my views, it goes without saying that I should find you also unsympathetic. You are anxious, I see, to leave us. Permit me!"
He held open the door for her with grave courtesy, but Wrayson pushed him aside. He had recovered himself to some extent, but he still felt as though he were moving in some horrible dream.
"Colonel!" he exclaimed hoarsely, "you know what this means! You know where she will go!"
"'TO THE NEAREST POLICE STATION! THAT'S WHERE I'M OFF.'"
"If he don't, let me tell him," she interrupted. "To the nearest police station! That's where I'm off."
Wrayson glanced quickly at the Colonel, who seemed in no way discomposed.