"Irma," he cried, "send this fellow away."
I made haste to go, but she kept me. "Mr. Enderby must stay," she said. "He is your friend," she added.
He made a gesture of despair. A hideous silence descended on the three of us.
"You asked to see me," she said at last.
"Irma, do you believe this of me?" he cried like a soul out of Hell.
"I am willing to hear anything you have to say," she murmured.
"What does evidence matter?" he cried. "Do you believe me capable of such a thing?"
"Am I not forced to?" she said very low.
His head dropped. I never saw such hopeless wretchedness in a man's face. I felt like an executioner.
"Speak up!" I said sharply. "We are anxious to believe in you."