"That depends on the woman," he said. "I believe she can prove his innocence; something tells me she can; his brother believes it too. If this be so, she ought to speak and save him, no matter at what cost to herself." "Do you think she will?" "No; or she would have spoken before. She must be callous, hard-hearted, dead to all sense of human feeling. Such a woman would make me shudder to come in contact with her," he said. She smiled as she thought: "He little knows I am that woman. I must wait. If he loves me later on I can tell him." "Perhaps the woman cannot prove his innocence. She may believe him guilty." "Impossible. There were only three persons present: the husband, the wife, and Hector Woodridge." "It seems very strange that if he is innocent she has not declared the truth." "Steeped in wickedness and sin as she is, I do not wonder at it; she is probably living in the world, leading a fast life, ruining men as she ruined him." "Or she may be suffering agonies and be too much of a coward to speak; she may be an object of pity; perhaps if you saw her you would be sorry for her, as sorry as you are for him," she said. "He is in prison, she is free; she has the world to distract her, he has nothing." "You spoke of torture of the mind. Perhaps she is a sensitive woman; if so, her sufferings are as terrible as his." "If you were the woman, what would you do?" he asked. The question was put with an abruptness that startled her; again a feeling of fear was uppermost. It was strange he should know Hector Woodridge; still more curious that he was on the _Sea-mew_ in Torbay. He must know if Hector Woodridge boarded the yacht; was he concealing something? "I do not know what I should do. It would depend upon circumstances." "What circumstances?" he asked. "If I knew he was innocent, I should speak, I think--that is, if I could prove it." "She must be able to prove it," he said. "I believe he is suffering, keeping silent, to save her." "If he is, his conduct is heroic," she said. "Foolish--a sin and a shame that he should waste his life for such a woman." "You think her a very bad woman?" "I do, one of the worst," he said. She sighed. "I am glad I have never been placed in such an unfortunate position," she said. "So am I, but I am sure if you had been, Hector Woodridge would be a free man," he said. "I wonder if he loved her?" she asked quickly. "Loved her? He must have done so. Think how he is suffering for her; he must love her still," he said. "Perhaps she does not know this." "She ought to know; all his actions speak of love for her. No man ever made a greater sacrifice for a woman," he said. Then, looking at his watch, he added, "It is time for me to go, to meet Mr. Denyer. He is a great friend of yours, is he not?" "I should not call him a friend exactly, although I have known him a long time; he is useful to me in business matters," she said. "Can I be of any use in that way?" he asked.