"And what did she answer?"
"She denied it, but--"
"And Christ will deny you, you wretch!" he thundered out. "All's clear--all's clear now! You thought to damn her; but you've damned yourself--damned your own soul through the blazing eternity of hell!"
He leapt up and she faced him without flinching.
"I know what I know," she said.
"Then know a little more than you know!"
He seized her by the wrist and dragged her into the adjoining room. It was dark. Only blankets that covered the dead made a streak of pallid light in the gloom.
"With Crocker--eh? Happy--eh? Go there! Get on your knees, murderess--look under that blanket and then ax yourself whether your carcase be fit to feed dogs!"
She realised in a moment the thing that had happened. She moved the blanket; she touched; she recoiled; but she made no sound.
"Your work--your filthy, lewd work, to drive that angel of goodness to make an end of herself. She couldn't breathe the same air with you no more. Murder, I say, if ever murder was. You--you--to think that you--behind my back--in my home-- You thrust her in the water--you held her down under it! Get out of my sight to hell--hide yourself--call the hills to cover you afore the decent world finds what you are and tears the flesh off your bones!"