o sleep any more, Raymond. I want to know
something."

"What is it, dear?"

"Will they make me go to the funerals?" Her face began to show signs
of worriment.

"You'll not have to go if you don't wish to," he answered, and gave a
slight shiver in spite of himself, for the question was such an
unexpected one.

"I can't go--I can't look at them! And then the crowd would stare so!
Oh, Raymond, the crowd is the worst of all! Hundreds of eyes boring
one through and through! I can't stand that!"

"You'll not have to stand that, Margaret. But go to sleep, do! It
will do you a world of good," and he smoothed down her hair fondly.

"No, I've slept enough--I want to talk. Oh, I am not afraid to talk
now," she added, sitting up. "I thought it all out while I was
sleeping. Isn't it funny that one can think a thing out in one's
sleep? And it's so very clear now--as clear as crystal--and it was so
dark and muddled before. Will they give me a trial?"

He started in spite of himself. "Please don't think of that now,
Margaret, I beg of you. Lie down and try to sleep. I have sent for
another doctor, a specialist. He will be here soon."

"A specialist? How can he help me? You hired that Mr. Adam Adams but
he has deserted me. But then--but then--he must have learned the
truth!" She gave a sob and buried her face in her hands. "Yes, he
must have learned the truth!"

"Margaret, do keep quiet, please!" he pleaded. "You need rest, you
must have rest."

"No, I want to talk, to tell you something, Raymond. I--I want you to
go away."

"Away? Oh, Margaret!"

"Yes, away--you mustn't come near me any more. You are innocent and it
isn't right that you should suffer with me. You must go away and
forget me."

"I'll never do that. You mustn't even dream of such a thing. We are
going to get you well, and we are going to prove your innocence to the
world."

"My innocence? Oh, Raymond, don't speak so--it cuts me like a knife!"

"But I mean it," he said firmly.

"Yes, yes, I know--you are so good-hearted, so true! But haven't I
told you? Must I go over it again? The ring, the blood--"

"Margaret!"

"And that note, and the quarrels, and all. Didn't they prove that I
was guilty? Yes, they proved it, and I must--must-- Will they hang
me or electrocute me? I wonder how it feels to be hung or
electrocuted?" She gave a hollow, bitter laugh. "I'll soon know, I
suppose!" And then she fell back on her