“Are you a sealed wife?” he flung at her.
She could not answer at once. She made effort, but the words would not come. He flung the question again, sternly.
“No!” she cried.
And then there was silence. That poignant word quivered in Shefford's heart. He believed it was a lie. It seemed he would have known it if this hour was the first in which he had ever seen the girl. He heard, he felt, he sensed the fatal thing. The beautiful voice had lacked some quality before present. And the thing wanting was something subtle, an essence, a beautiful ring—the truth. What a hellish thing to make that pure girl a liar—a perjurer! The heat deep within Shefford kindled to fire.
“You are not married?” went on Judge Stone.
“No, sir,” she answered, faintly.
“Have you ever been married?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you expect ever to be married?”
“Oh! No, sir.”