"'No,' she replied fiercely, 'I am glad to say I have not.'
"'Why are you glad?' I asked. 'Surely a child is the crown of a married woman's bliss.'
"'It would not be to me,' she cried. 'My heart is full to the brim. I have no room for a child in it.'
"'A full heart generally means happiness,' I said. 'Are you happy?'
"She gave me a queer glance.
"'No, ma'am,' she answered, 'my heart is full of bitterness, of sorrow.' Her eyes looked quite wild. She pressed one of her hands to her forehead,—then stepping out, she half turned round to me.
"'I wish you good-morning, Mrs. Everett,' she said. 'My way lies across here.'
"'Stay a moment before you leave me,' I said. 'I am coming to this plain on a mission which you perhaps can guess. If you are poor you will not despise half a sovereign. I'll give you half a sovereign if you'll show me the exact spot where the murder was committed.'
"She turned from white to red, and from red to white again.
"'I don't like that spot,' she said. 'That night was a terrible night to me; my nerves ain't what they were—I sleep bad, and sometimes I dream. Many and many a time I've seen that murder committed over again. I have seen the look on the face of the murdered man, and the look on the face of the man who did it—Oh, my God, I have seen——'