“I do,” she declared, earnestly. “I thought, when they were prosecuting you, that it would set you in the right light; and it seems that dreadful man knew how to distort it and knew— Oh! it all seems like a dreadful nightmare! I have done everything I could. And my father has, too. Is there no way? Do you not know of one way in which my testimony could not be taken?” Her voice faltered, so that Steve could scarcely catch the words.
“No, none whatsoever.”
“Yes. There is one way. I have heard—I have been told there is one,” she persisted, faintly.
“And what is that?” asked Steve, coldly. Suddenly she broke down.
“How can you be so hard on me—so cruel?” she sobbed.
Steve watched her, at first almost grimly; but her weeping softened him.
“Miss Welch, do not distress yourself,” he said, quietly. “There is no way to help me; but it is not your fault. I believe what you have told me.”
“There is one way,” she said.
“And that is?”
“To marry me.”