“Ah, I thought so.”
She moved forward and leaned across the desk. Their eyes were no more than a yard apart.
“Tell me,” she said quietly, “why did you slip into town by night? Why are you hiding in your own home?”
A tremor ran through his slender frame. With an effort he tried to take the upperhand.
“You must excuse me,” he said, with an attempt at sharp dignity. “I refuse to be cross-examined.”
“Then I will answer for you. The reason, Doctor Sherman, is that you have a guilty conscience.”
“That is not——”
“Do not lie,” she interrupted quickly. “You realize what you have done, you are afraid it may become public, you are afraid of the consequences to yourself—and that is why you slipped back in the dead of night and lie hidden like a fugitive in your own house.”
A spasm of agony crossed his face.