"Do you suppose he will be fool enough to go to the penitentiary, or hang, to save your reputation?" Langham asked harshly.
"I think Jack North would be almost fool enough for that," she answered with conviction.
"Well, I don't,—you were too easy,—men don't risk their necks for your sort!" he mocked. "Look here, you had an infatuation for North,—you admitted it,—only this time it went too far! What was the trouble, did he get sick of the business and throw you over?"
"How coarse you are, Marsh!" and she colored angrily, not at his words, however, but at the memory of that last meeting with North.
"It's a damn rotten business, and I'll call it by what name I please! If you are summoned, it will be your word against his; you have told me you were not in his rooms—"
"I was not there—" she said, and as she said it she wondered why she did not tell the truth, admit the whole thing and have it over with. She was tired of the wrangling, and her hatred of North had given way to pity, yet when Langham replied:
"All right. You are my wife, and North can hang, but he shan't save himself by ruining you if I can help it!"
She answered: "I have told you that I wasn't there, Marsh."
"Would you swear that you weren't there?" Langham asked eagerly.
"Yes—"