“I—I did everything for the best, sir.”
“Henry Vine! You did not accuse him of this terrible affair?”
Crampton’s face grew gradually hard and stern. His tremulous state passed off, and he turned as if at bay.
“Crampton! Good heavens, man! What have you done.”
“I had to think of you, sir, lying here. Of Mrs Van Heldre, sir, and of Miss Madelaine.”
“Yes, yes; but speak, man. What have you done?”
“My duty, sir.”
“And accused him of this—this crime?”
Crampton was silent.
“Are you mad? Oh, man, man, you must have been mad.”