"I am!"
She sat down, again, caught his head between her two hands and kissed him softly on the forehead. As she did so, he felt a hot tear fall on his cheek, and when he looked at her she was crying.
"Judith!" he cried, with sudden terror, "you are weeping."
"Yes. May God always send mankind such true hearts as yours!"
"I would be unworthy of your love if I did not believe you before all the lying scoundrels in the world."
"Alas, Don Quixote!"
"But you can explain everything, Judith. I feel certain you can."
"I can explain when I hear your story. At present I know nothing beyond the fact that Monsieur Guinaud has accused me of a vile crime. What does he say?"
Roger, still kneeling by her side, told the story as related to him by Fanks, and at the conclusion eagerly waited for her denial.
She said nothing, but sat in sombre silence, with her eyes fixed beyond his head in a vague, unseeing manner.