stated at the inquest, that you had
no idea at all of the reason why your late husband had changed his
attitude toward you, and become mistrustful and reserved, during the
last few months of his life?"

Mrs. Manderson's dark brows lifted and her eyes flamed; she quickly rose
from her chair. Trent got up at the same moment, and took his envelop
from the table; his manner said that he perceived the interview to be at
an end. But she held up a hand, and there was color in her cheeks and
quick breathing in her voice as she said: "Do you know what you ask, Mr.
Trent? You ask me if I perjured myself."

"I do," he answered unmoved; and he added after a pause: "You knew
already that I had not come here to preserve the polite fictions, Mrs.
Manderson. The theory that no reputable person, being on oath, could
withhold a part of the truth under any circumstances is a polite
fiction." He still stood as awaiting dismissal; but she was silent. She
walked to the window, and he stood miserably watching the slight
movement of her shoulders until it subsided. Then with face averted,
looking out on the dismal weather, she spoke at last clearly.

"Mr. Trent," she said, "you inspire confidence in people, and I feel
that things which I don't want known or talked about are safe with you.
And I know you must have a very serious reason for doing what you are
doing, though I don't know what it is. I suppose it would be assisting
justice in some way if I told you the truth about what you asked me just
now. To understand that truth you ought to know about what went before;
I mean about my marriage. After all, a good many people could tell you
as well as I can that it was not ... a very successful union. I was only
twenty. I admired his force and courage and certainty; he was the only
strong man I had ever known. But it did not take me long to find out
that he cared for his business more than for me, and I think I found out
even sooner that I had been deceiving myself and blinding myself,
promising myself impossible things and wilfully misunderstanding my own
feelings, because I was dazzled by the idea of having more money to
spend than an English girl ever dreams of. I have been despising myself
for that for five years. My husband's feeling for me ... well, I cannot
speak of that ... what I want to say is that along with it there had
always been a belief of his that I was the sort of woman to take a great
place in society, and that I should thr