"There was no marriage," she answered. "I was very foolish to have been deceived even for a moment. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man." "Did any one see you leave the flat?" he asked. "I do not know. But David Courtlaw has been here. To-night they say he will be conscious. He will say who it was. So there is no escape. And listen, John." "Well?" "I went from Anna's flat to Nigel Ennison's rooms. I told him the truth. I asked him to take me away, and hide me. He refused. He sent me home." Sir John's head bent lower and lower. There was nothing left now of the self-assured, prosperous man of affairs. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. He looked no longer at his wife. His eyes were fixed upon the tablecloth. There was a gentle rustling of skirts. Softly she rose to her feet. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her other hand she held a glass of wine. "Dear husband," she murmured. "I am so very, very sorry. I have brought disgrace upon you, and I haven't been the right sort of wife at all. But it is all over now, and presently there will be some one else. I should like to have had you forgive me." He did not move. He seemed to be thinking hard. She paused for a moment. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. "Good-bye, John," she said simply. Something in her tone made him look up. In a second the glass lay shattered upon the carpet. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. "God in Heaven, Annabel!" he cried. "What were you doing?" Her voice was a little hysterical. Her unnatural calm was giving way. "It was poison--why not?" she answered. "Who is there to care and--John." His arms were around her. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign. "You poor little girl!" he cried. "Forgive you, indeed. There isn't a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn't have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. It is no crime, none at all. It is one of God's laws that a woman may defend her honour, even with the shedding of blood. While you talked I was only making our plans. It was necessary to think, and think quickly." She was altogether hysterical now. "But I--I went to Nigel Ennison for help. I asked him--to take me away." She saw him flinch, but he gave no sign of it in his tone. "Perhaps," he said, "I have been to blame. It must be my fault that you have not learnt that your husband is the man to come to--at such a time as this. Oh, I think I understand, Annabel. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. Bah. Little woman, you have been brave enough before. Pull yourself together now. Drink this!" He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. She drank it obediently.