She looked up at Wyant, and their eyes met.
"Why do you do it?" she asked.
He stared, as if thinking that she referred to some special point in his treatment. "Do what?"
"It's so useless...you all know she must die."
"I know nothing of the kind...and even the others are not so sure today." He began to go over it all again—repeating his arguments, developing new theories, trying to force into her reluctant mind his own faith in the possibility of success.
Justine sat resting her chin on her clasped hands, her eyes gazing straight before her under dark tormented brows. When he paused she remained silent.
"Well—don't you believe me?" he broke out with sudden asperity.
"I don't know...I can't tell...."
"But as long as there's a doubt, even—a doubt my way—and I'll show you there is, if you'll give me time——"