"No man's reputation should be taxed—where murder has been done and self-interest can be imputed—when the truth can be told by an eye-witness," she decided. "I shall have to speak eventually, so it is much the wiser to speak at once—to delay will only breed doubt of my tale. I shall tell the story, dear."
"No—you shall——"
"Yes, dear; I shall tell the story."
It was final. Even Pendleton realized it.
"Am I worth it, little woman?" he asked.
"It is I who am not worthy," she replied—"I never have been worthy of your—love."
He held out his arms.
"Sweetheart!" he cried.
She went to him, with an adorable smile and a sigh of supreme content.
"If you wish it, dearest," she whispered, "if you wish it—after a little time."