"Heaven help him! Yes. So, also, did I."
"You, Valentin?"
"Yes. Believing him. He told me--told my mother--in our own house, that she came from England with him willingly enough--that they were married when they landed at Ambleteuse."
"And every word was a lie!"
"So we knew later--so I found out. And in a marvellous way."
"How?"
"From the woman now in this house--the woman who watches ever upstairs by that poor girl's body----"
"Clemence?"
"Ay, Clemence! You know her history?"
"Something of it. Also I know--heaven grant I may never forget!--that to her it is owing that I am not lying choked to death in that garret. By a chance only that I am not also lying a mass of charred ashes. As well might that wing have caught fire as the others while I still lay shackled in it, and then farewell to Andrew Vause and his opportunity for saving Marion from that death, if no other. And 'tis to Clemence that all is owing. Yet--how ever to have believed it!"