"Then you have been afraid?" she asked softly.
"Of losing your love—yes. But now I am satisfied on that point, there is another thing that makes me afraid."
"What is it?"
"I may be accused of this murder. Other people may have seen me, as you saw me, dear."
"Then it was you?" she gasped.
"No, no! I have explained myself. If necessary, I can put forward an alibi."
"Who was the man then?"
"I can't tell you that." Cyril pushed her away, and rose much agitated.
"Then you know?" Bella stood back from him doubtfully.
"I can't be sure. I think—that is, I fancy—Bella, don't ask me anything just now. Later I may be able to explain."