She made no reply to this, but put her hand up and pushed back the soft, loose hair from her forehead with a perplexed air.
“It’s a fine thing, Di, a noble thing for a man to do. It can mean only one thing!”
She still said nothing, but leaned against the banisters, watching him.
“He’s in love with you, Diane. There’s no other reason on God’s earth for a man to do a thing like that, to shield another from the blame that’s coming to him by rights. Did you know”—he stopped and looked at her again—“before this that he cared for you?”
“I used to think he did,” she answered weakly, her head leaning against the rail.
“It’s too bad, Diane!” the judge broke out. “It’s too bad that you didn’t care for him!”
His tone, as well as his words, disarmed her. She did not even suspect him of a ruse; but, in her pent-up state, it was too much, and she broke down utterly, quite off her guard.
“Oh, I did!” she sobbed. “I did!”
She turned her head and hid her face on her arm, bursting suddenly into wild tears and sobs.