"You understand, I don't admit that I did it, yet," said Miss Brady, sullenly. "I have never admitted a thing, not even to the lawyer."
"Would you not be happier if you did admit it?" asked Faith, softly. "I am sure it would relieve you to get it off of your conscience."
"Oh, it ain't troubling me much!" said the girl indifferently, "but I will say that I'm glad the stuff didn't kill you!"
"But it might have killed Sam Watkins if the dog had not happened to be there. Why, Miss Brady, just think; you might have killed a dozen people!"
The woman shuddered and turned away her face.
"Well, as it didn't kill any one there's some hope for me," she said, "and I want to live long enough to get square with Jim Denton!"
"What has he done to you?" cried Faith, impulsively. "I can't think what he could do to make you hate him so bitterly."
"Hate him!" cried the girl. "Me hate Jim Denton! Why, you don't know what you are talking about! Would I be jealous if I hated him?"
"But you certainly can't love him," said Faith, with another blush. "If you did you could not harm him so much as in your thoughts. You would be glad to suffer anything to be able to protect him."
"Oh, I've protected him all right," said the girl, with a sneer; then she straightened up suddenly and said: