"Roger, I wanted her so, and you were gone, and we thought you dead, and our affairs got entangled so——"
"You killed her," I said savagely. "But for your accursed cunning and greed she would be alive now."
"I didn't know, Roger. I knew she didn't like me after—after—you went away, but I didn't think I should——"
"Did you hold her to her promise to the last?"
"Yes—that is, I thought she might get better again and so——"
"You drove her to her death, and now my turn has come."
"But you will not hurt me, Roger; you will not hurt your brother! What will you do?"
This touched me to the quick, and for a time I felt I could not hurt him.
Is there unspoken communication of thought? Is there a subtle interchange of mind which is instinctively felt? I think so, for no sooner did I feel that I could not harm Wilfred than his evident fear left him. He acted on the aggressive immediately, and spoke boldly.
"Yes, what will you do?" he said. "I refuse to know you. I refuse to recognise you. My brother Roger is dead, and was buried long years since. You are some impostor come here to claim what is not your own, under the paltry pretence of revenge."