I went to Italy with your express consent. I wrote and told you that I’d met Robert Colby. Chance threw us together in Venice; we found we were making practically the same tour, and we joined forces. I saw no harm in it. I see no harm in it now. You can make what use of the admissions you like.
George Winter.
And do you think you will be able to persuade a British jury that you and Robert Colby travelled through Italy together merely to look at churches and pictures?
Catherine.
George, I know now that I never cared for you, but I promise you on my word of honour that I’ve never been unfaithful to you.
George Winter.
My dear, it’s not a question of convincing me—I am the most trusting, the most credulous of mortals—but of convincing the twelve good men and true who form a British jury.
Catherine.
You’re not a fool, George. You know people, and you know what I’m capable of and what I’m not. In your heart you’re certain that I’ve done nothing that can give you any cause for complaint. I’ve suffered a great deal during these four years—I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy to go through what I have—I implore you not to drag me through this horror.
George Winter.