He was now more than ever certain he was stumbling upon something which would bring him the blessed assurance that she had not sold herself for reward.
“Your sister?” he cried eagerly.
“They shan’t send her to prison,” the girl said doggedly.
“You’re doing all this to save your sister from prison?” he asked her gently.
“She depends on me so,” she answered dully. “They shan’t take her.”
“Then you’ve been forced into this?” he asked. “You haven’t done it of your own free will?”
“No, no,” she returned, “but what else could I do? She was my little sister; she came first.”
“And you weren’t lying to me—trying to trick me for money?”
“Can’t you see,” she said piteously, “that I wanted to save you, too, and wanted you to get away? I said you were innocent, but they wouldn’t believe me and said I had to go on or else they’d send Amy to prison. They have a warrant all ready for her in case I fail. That’s why I’m here. Oh, please, please, let me go.”
Steven Denby looked into her eyes and made his resolve. “You don’t know how much I want to believe in you,” he exclaimed. “It may spoil everything I’ve built on, but I’m going to take the chance.” He unlocked the door that led to her room. “You can go, Miss Cartwright!”