"You acquiesced in it. You consented. You should have warned the—the other murderer that you would denounce him if the man died. You took advantage of it. His death enabled you to carry out your fraud with me as your accomplice. With ME! I am an accomplice in a murder!"
"No, no, Iris; you knew nothing of it. No one can ever accuse you—"
"You do not understand. It is part of the accusation which I make against myself."
"As for what this woman writes," her husband went on, "it is true. I suppose it is useless to deny a single word of it. She was hidden behind the curtain, then! She heard and saw all! If Vimpany had found her! He was right. No one so dangerous as a woman. Yes; she has told you exactly what happened. She suspected all along. We should have sent her away and changed our plans. This comes of being too clever. Nothing would do for the doctor but the man's death. I hoped—we both hoped—that he would die a natural death. He did not. Without a dead man we were powerless. We had to get a dead man, Iris, I will hide nothing more from you, whatever happens. I confess everything. I knew that he was going to die. When he began to get well I was filled with forebodings, because I knew that he would never be allowed to go away. How else could we find a dead body? You can't steal a body; you can't make one up. You must have one for proof of death. I say"—his voice was harsh and hoarse—"I say that I knew he must die. I saw his death in the doctor's face. And there was no more money left for a new experiment if Oxbye should get well and go away. When it came to the point I was seized with mortal terror. I would have given up everything—everything—to see the man get up from his bed and go away. But it was too late. I saw the doctor prepare the final dose, and when he had it to his lips I saw by his eyes that it was the drink of death. I have told you all," he concluded.
"You have told me all," she repeated. "All! Good Heavens! All!"
"I have hidden nothing from you. Now there is nothing more to tell."
She stood perfectly still—her hands clasped, her eyes set, her face white and stern.
"What I have to do now," she said, "lies plain before me."
"Iris! I implore you, make no change in our plans. Let us go away as we proposed. Let the past be forgotten. Come with me—"
"Go with you? With you? With you? Oh!" she shuddered.