'Does it matter very much what people think?' he said gravely.
'I'm so ashamed of myself. I try to put the thoughts out of my head, but I can't. I simply can't. I've tried to be brave. I've refused to discuss the possibility of there being anything in those horrible charges. I wanted to talk to Dick—I knew he was fond of you—but I didn't dare. It seemed treacherous to you, and I wouldn't let anyone see that it meant anything to me. The first letter wasn't so bad, but the second—oh, it looks so dreadfully true.'
Alec gave her a rapid glance. This was the first he had heard of another communication to the paper. During the frenzied anxiety of those days at the colliery, he had had time to attend to nothing but the pressing work of rescue. But he made no reply.
'I've read it over and over again, and I can't understand. When Bobbie says it's conclusive, I tell him it means nothing—but—don't you see what I mean? The uncertainty is more than I can bear.'
She stopped suddenly, and now she looked at him. There was a pitiful appeal in her eyes.
'At the first moment I felt so absolutely sure of you.'
'And now you don't?' he asked quietly.
She cast down her eyes once more, and a sob caught her breath.
'I trust you just as much as ever. I know it's impossible that you should have done a shameful deed. But there it stands in black and white, and you have nothing to say in answer.'
'I know it's very difficult. That's why I asked you to believe in me.'