levolently, "I should have died rather than have consented.
Oh," she shook her hands in the air, "how I hate you and your uncle and
the whole of the Mallows."

"A woman scorned, I see," said Cuthbert, rather cruelly, "well, you
must be aware that I know everything."

"You don't know who killed Emilia?"

"Maraquito said it was you."

"I" shrieked Mrs. Octagon, "how dare she? But that she is dead, as
Juliet told me, I would have her up for libel. Maraquito herself killed
the woman. I am sure of it. That coining factory--"

"Did you know of its existence?"

"No, I didn't," snapped Mrs. Octagon. "I knew nothing of Emilia's
criminal doings. I let her bear the name of my sister--"

"Why?" asked Mallow, quickly, and not knowing what Maraquito had said
to Caranby.

"I don't know," replied Mrs. Octagon, sullenly, "Emilia was in some
trouble with the law. Her brother and mother were afterwards arrested
for coining. She might have been arrested also, but that I agreed to
hold my tongue. Emilia pushed Selina off the plank. Then she turned
and accused me. As it was known that I was on bad terms with Selina, I
might have been accused of the crime, and Emilia would have sworn the
rope round my neck. Emilia made me help her to change the dress, and
said that as the face of the dead was disfigured, and she was rather
like Selina--which she certainly was, she could arrange. I did not
know how she intended to blind my father. But my father died
unexpectedly. Had he not done so, the deception could not have been
kept up. As it was, I went to the inquest, and Emilia as Selina
pretended to be ill. I saw after her and we had a strange doctor.
Then we went abroad, and she came back to shut herself up in Rose
Cottage. I tried to marry Caranby, but Emilia stopped that."

"Why did she?"

"Because she loved Caranby in her tiger way. That was why she insisted
you should marry Juliet. She always threatened to tell that I had
killed Selina, though I was innocent."

"If you were, why need you have been afraid?"

"Circumstances were too strong for me," said Mrs. Octagon, wiping her
dry lips and glaring like a demon. "I had to give in. Had I known of
that factory I would have spoken out. As it was, I wrote to Caranby
when in a fit of rage; but afterwards I was afraid of what I had done,
as I thought Emilia would tell."

"She certainly would have done so had she not died so opportunely."

"Do you mean to say that I