"Still afraid some one would know who you were?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you try to disguise your handwriting in any way?"
"Yes, sir—a little."
"But just why did you always use your own initials—C. G.?"
"Well, I thought that the initials on my bag should be the same as the initials on the register, and still not be my name either."
"I see. Clever in one sense, not so clever in another—just half clever, which is the worst of all." At this Mason half rose in his seat as though to object, but evidently changing his mind, sank slowly back again. And once more Jephson's right eye swiftly and inquiringly swept the jury to his right. "Well, did you finally explain to her that you wanted to be done with it all as you had planned—or did you not?"
"I wanted to talk to her about it just after we got there if I could—the next morning, anyhow—but just as soon as we got off up there and got settled she kept saying to me that if I would only marry her then—that she would not want to stay married long—that she was so sick and worried and felt so bad—that all she wanted to do was to get through and give the baby a name, and after that she would go away and let me go my way, too."
"And then?"
"Well, and then—then we went out on the lake——"