"Oh! why didn't I tell you before?" she said at last. "I always wanted to, but I thought—at least I felt—I see I did you an injustice—I thought you might press me to—to——"
"To confess," said Magdalen, her low voice piercing to Fay's very soul.
"Y-yes, at least to say something to a policeman or someone, so that Michael might be let out. I was afraid if I told you you would never give me any peace till Michael was released."
"Have you had any peace since he was put into prison?"
Fay shook her head.
"Make your mind easy, Fay, I shall never urge you to"—Magdalen hesitated—"to go against your conscience."
"What would you have done in my place?" said Fay hastily.
"I should have had to speak."
"You are better than me, Magdalen, more religious. You always have been."
"I should have had to speak, not because I am better or worse than you, but simply because I could not have endured the misery of silence. It would have broken me in two. And if I had not had the courage to speak in Andrea's lifetime, I would have spoken directly he was dead, and have released Michael and married him. You have not told me why you did not do that."