"Now," said the little doctor, stirring the fire to greater effort and seeing that her callers had the easiest chairs in the room, "now, then, Mr. Morley."
Molly followed every motion of Marcia Lowe with unchildlike interest. Fear was gone from the girl's face, but an alert sharpness marked it.
"Can you give her," Martin nodded toward Molly, "a bed for—for to-night? I have something to tell you."
Marcia Lowe sensed that something serious lay behind the request, and rose at once and went to Molly.
"Come into my bedroom," she said; "I can make you very comfy, I'm sure. Will you sleep with me?"
Molly nodded and followed meekly. After a time Marcia Lowe came back and, standing in front of Morley, said quickly:
"What is it?"
The haggard, haunted face was raised to her.
"I've—I've done killed Mary!" he said simply.
The little doctor shuddered, but controlled her features; her eyes did not fall from the wretched man's face.