Presently she heard shrill cries in the road not far distant. She listened attentively.
"Wonderful confession at Manchester!" It was a boy's voice she heard, and every word reached her clearly.
"Strange confession by the judge! Paul Stepaside's father!"
Heedless of what she was doing, she rushed down the garden path, and found her way into the street in the near distance. A boy was selling newspapers. She bought one, and hurried back to the house. She had no idea of the lapse of time, did not realise that it was now three o'clock in the afternoon. She had come by a slow train from Manchester, and Paul's mother had been sleeping for hours.
Eagerly she opened the paper, and there, great staring headlines met her gaze. For a long time she was absorbed by what she read. There, in cold, plain words, was her father's confession. It was true, then; every word of it was true. She did not know why she did it, but, taking the paper in her hand, she hurried upstairs to the bedroom where she had left Paul's mother asleep. The town hall clock was chiming in the distance. She looked at her own watch, and saw that it was half-past four. She had been reading the paper for an hour. As she entered the woman on the bed awoke.
"Something's happened, my lassie. What is it?"
"It's all here," said Mary. "It's all here. Shall I read it to you?"