“You seem surprised,” she said; “you know your cousin fairly well?”
“Yes,” he answered, nodding his head.
“Then you cannot suppose that I loved him, even though he was my husband! No girl could love Dick Bracknell when she knew him for what he was, and any woman, married as I was, would almost rejoice to know that—that she was released.”
“You do not know what you are saying,” protested the corporal quickly. “You cannot realize what implication your words may have to any one who knows what I know. It would almost seem that you had wished for Dick Bracknell’s death, and that fact in view of the circumstances in which I found him last night might assume a terrible significance.”
“You mean that people might think I shot my husband?”
“Yes,” was the reply. “At least many people would ask that question.”
“And you?” inquired the girl. “You have asked yourself that question?”
“Naturally,” replied Bracknell. “You must remember that I saw you coming from the place where he was lying.”
“I wonder what conclusion you have reached,” said Joy, looking at him keenly.