"So you know the truth, then?" he said. "Give me the confession."
"What confession? What do you mean?" she cried, trying to release her hand.
"The confession left by your husband, in which he tells the story of Achille Lestrange's murder."
"I--I--I don't know----"
"Yes, you do; yes, you do--no lies!" He shook her wrist. "You know that Marlow never murdered Captain Lestrange."
"Let go my wrist!" cried Mrs. Warrender, and succeeded in wrenching herself free. "What do you mean by behaving like this? I know nothing about the matter--there!"
Blair jumped up and made for the door.
"Very good. Then you lose the money. I have got for you."
"Come back! come back!" She followed him to the door and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Don't be in a hurry. Is there--is there money in it?"
"If you have the confession, yes."