"Having forgiven me so generously, Doctor Heath, don't you think it would be quite proper to shake hands?"
He looked down upon her, a strange light leaping into his eyes. But he did not approach. He lifted a large, shapely hand, and surveyed it sorrowfully.
"It looks as clean as any hand, Miss Wardour, but there is a stain upon it."
"A stain! No, sir. Do you think that I believe in your guilt?"
Again the quick light flamed in his eyes, and now he came a step nearer.
"Do you believe in my innocence?"
"Beyond a doubt."
"When I said 'there is a stain upon my hand,' I did not mean the stain of guilt, but of suspicion, of accusation."
"There is no stain upon your hand! Doctor Heath. What is this I hear about you? They tell me you will make no defense."
He smiled down at her.