"He tried." The set face of the young wife took on an expression of fright and horror. "He met me when I was looking for him, trying to explain. He clutched me by the throat. He would have killed me if he could. He will kill me yet if I cannot explain."
"When did he choke you?" asked Beverton. "Where was it?" he asked, with perspiration starting from his forehead and an incident of his childhood in his mind.
"In the hall—the long hall."
"He was a baby," ventured Beverton. "How could he harm you?"
She waited a moment, as though the question puzzled her, then said:
"A baby, yes. I was a baby, too."
"Where was this long hall?"
Again the play of emotion on her features, but no answer.
"Was it in a hotel?"
"A hotel, yes."