“Who else might I have sent?” she inquired.
“Why there is only one thing now to do, is there?” he retorted.
“What is that?”
“Give me up as I have lacked courage to give myself up,” he said desperately.
“Then you do not deny it?” she said.
“Deny it! Why should I deny it? Have not I known it must come to this some time? Have I ever ceased cursing my own vacillation in not going straight away to the inspector here, and telling him the whole story? People might have believed me then; but they will never believe me now.”
There was a moment’s silence which he broke by asking,—
“How did you get to know about this, Miss Moffat?”
“Mrs. Brady is too ill to keep many secrets,” was the reply.
“Ill! what is the matter with her?” he hurriedly inquired.