When he raised his eyes again, Mrs. Hannaford was gazing at him with pitiful entreaty.
"For her sake," she said, in a low, shaken voice, "you will try to do something?"
"If only I can!"
"Yes! I know you! You are good and generous—It ought surely to be possible to stop this before it gets talked about? If I were guilty, it would be different. But I have done no wrong; I have only been weak and foolish. I thought of going straight to my brother, but there is the dreadful thought that he might not believe me. It is so hard for a woman accused in this way to seem innocent; men always see the dark side. He has no very good opinion of me, as it is, I know he hasn't. I turned so naturally to you; I felt you would do your utmost for me in my misery.—If only my husband can be brought to see that I am not guilty, that he wouldn't win the suit, then perhaps he would cease from it. I will give all the money I can—all I have!"
Piers stood reflecting.
"Tell me all the details you have learnt," he said. "What evidence do they rely on?"
Her head bowed, her voice broken, she told of place and time and the assertions of so-called witnesses.
"Why has this plot against you been a year in ripening?" asked Otway.
"Perhaps we are wrong in thinking it a plot. My husband may only just have discovered what he thinks my guilt in some chance way. If so, there is hope."
They sat mute for a minute or two.