ough his chaos of thought.

"He was dead--before I got into the taxi-cab."

He saw that she was fighting to impress upon him the truth of her
well-nigh unbelievable statement, that every atom of her brain strove
desperately to convince him. And then she relaxed suddenly, as though
from too great strain, and a shudder passed over her.

"I knew--I knew--"

"You knew _what_, Mrs. Lawrence?"

"I knew that you would not believe me. Oh! it's true--this story I am
telling you. But I knew no one could believe it--it stretches one's
credulity too far. That is why I have kept silent through all these days
which have passed--that and a desire to save Evelyn and my husband."

"You love your husband?" Carroll bit his lips. The question had slipped
out before he realized that he had formed the words. But she did not
evade the issue--

"I despise him, Mr. Carroll. But he has played square with me--more so
than I have with him. And publication of this would hurt him--"

"Because he cares for you?"

"No. But because he is proud: because he is jealous of his personal
possessions--of which I am one."

"I see--And Mr. Warren--?"

She spread her hands in a helpless, hopeless gesture. "What's the use,
Mr. Carroll? Why, should I wrack myself with the story when you do not
even believe the reason upon which it is based? If you only believed me
when I tell you that when I got into the taxicab Roland had already
been killed--"

"I do believe that," returned Carroll gently.

She inbreathed sharply, then her eyes narrowed a trifle. "Do you mean
that--or is it bait to make me talk?"

"I can not do more than repeat my statement. I believe what you
have told me."

She held his eyes for a moment, then slowly hers shrank from the contact.
"You are telling me the truth," she ventured.

"And if you will tell me the whole story, Mrs. Lawrence--I shall see what
I can do for you."

"What is there to do for me? There is no way to keep my name from it--my
name and the story of the mistake which I made--was willing to make."

"Good God! No."

"If we--" he used the pronoun unconsciously--"can establish that, there
may be some way of keeping the details from the public. Suppose you
start at the beginning--and tell me what there is to tell?"

She hesitated. "Everything?"

"Everything--or nothing. A portion of the story will not help either of
us. Of course you don't have to--"

Impulsively she leaned forward. "There is something about