"Shall Ariston stay while we talk about this?" asked I.
"Yes," said Masters, turning to Ariston. "It is well that you should know that Neaera is my wife."
Ariston put up both hands with an involuntary expression of dismay, the significance of which Masters did not fail to take in. He looked at me half in despair, half in inquiry.
"Ariston understands now," I said, "why you have undertaken to vindicate Neaera."
"I should have undertaken to vindicate her in any event," answered Masters. "She is a woman, and a concerted effort is being directed toward making a scapegoat of her."
"The witnesses," I answered, "are certainly unanimous on the subject."
"From what you say," Masters said, "I gather that you do not disbelieve them."
The veins in Masters's forehead were swelling with the effort he was making to hide his indignation.
"I have been at great pains to be released from the obligation of testifying," I answered, "because I have not wished to injure her, because, above all," I added, "I have not wished to injure you."