The darkness began to tear at her nerves. She felt along the wall for the switch, and flooded the room with light.
Jimmy laid down the lantern, and stood for a moment, undecided. He looked at Molly, and suddenly there came over him an overwhelming desire to tell her everything. He had tried to stifle his conscience, to assure himself that the old days were over, and that there was no need to refer to them. And for a while he had imposed upon himself. But lately the falseness of his position had come home to him. He could not allow her to marry him, in ignorance of what he had been. It would be a villainous thing to do. Often he had tried to tell her, but had failed. He saw that it must be done, here and now.
He lifted the lid of the jewel box, and dangled the necklace before her eyes.
She drew back.
"Jimmy! You were—stealing them?"
"No, I was putting them back."
"Putting them back?"
"Listen. I'm going to tell you the truth, Molly—I've been trying to for days, but I never had the pluck. I wasn't stealing this necklace, but for seven years I lived by this sort of thing."
"By——"
"By stealing. By breaking into houses and stealing. There. It isn't nice, is it? But it's the truth. And whatever happens, I'm glad you know."