rich. He deserves it."

Fulton, after he had read that, looked at Braceway out of tortured eyes.
This turning of his tragedy into jest defied his strength.

"That's enough of that," Braceway raised his voice above the clatter of
the typewriter. "Get down to the crime, or stop!"

"By all means," Bristow assented.

Flicking from the roller the page he had already begun, he tore it up and
inserted another.

"I met Enid Fulton six years ago at Hot Springs, Virginia. She fell in
love with me.

"I had always known that a rich woman's indiscretions could be made to
yield big dividends. She was a victim of her----"

Braceway's grasp caught the writer's hands.

"Eliminate that!" he ordered sternly. "It's not necessary."

Bristow, imperturbable, his motions quick and sure, tore up that page
also, and started afresh:

"Later she believed I had embezzled in order to assure her ease and
luxury from the date of our marriage.

"Her exaggerated sense of fair play, of obligation, was an aid to my
representations of the situation.

"Although she no longer loved me and did love Withers, my hold on her,
rather on her purse, could not be broken.

"She gave me the money in Atlantic City and Washington. I played the
market, and lost. I no longer had my cunning in dealing with stocks.

"I came here as soon as I had learned of her presence in Furmville. At
first, she was reasonable. Abrahamson knows that. I pawned several
little things with him.

"At last she grew obstinate. She argued that, if she pawned any more of
her jewels, she would be unable to redeem them because her father had
failed in business.

"But I had to have funds. Several times I pointed this out to her when
I saw her in Number Five--always after midnight, for my own protection
as well as hers.

"Finally, my patience was exhausted. Last Monday night, or early
Tuesday morning, I told her so, quite clearly.

"She argued, plead with me. All this was in whispers. The necessity of
whispering so long irritated me.

"Her refusal, flat and final, to part with the jewels enraged me. It
was then that I made the first big mistake of my life.

"I lost my temper. Men who can not control their tempers under the most
trying circumstances should let crime alone. They will fail.

"I killed her--a foolish result of the folly of yielding to my rage.

"Standing there and looking at her, I pond