It was now the young man's turn to show discomposure. But it was for an instant only.
"A woman?" said he, inquiringly. "I don't think I understand."
"Of course," said Ashton-Kirk, with a gesture, "it is your privilege to assume any attitude you choose; but I must say that I consider this one faulty. There is a woman! And she insists that she has some sort of a legal claim upon you. This you deny; and Miss Corbin believes you."
"Mr. Warwick," exclaimed the girl, warmly, "has my utmost confidence."
"Thank you," smiled Ashton-Kirk. "We will now consider the existence of the woman as having been admitted." He settled back in his chair, and went on: "Some time ago Dr. Morse received a number of letters. They were brought to him by a second woman—one whom you," to Warwick, "did not know."
A quick look of surprise passed between the girl and the young man; but they kept silent.
"From that time," said Ashton-Kirk, easily, "there was a decided feeling between Dr. Morse and his secretary. Quarrels were frequent; he was not careful as to his words and you resented his brutality. On the night of the murder he struck you," looking at Warwick. "He struck you in the face; and you," turning his eyes swiftly upon the girl, "saw the blow and were glad."
"Glad!" the girl echoed the word. "Yes, I was glad. Because I knew that that would mark the end of your hesitancy," to Warwick. "I knew that you would act—that you would not be content with merely denying."
Ashton-Kirk nodded.