"You mean that Dr. Anna thinks Mrs. Balfame did it--that Mrs. Balfame confessed to her and that you can make the poor woman betray her friend while she is still too weak to resist. Well, you are all wrong. I know that Mrs. Balfame did not kill Balfame. If you want the reason for my knowledge,--and I know I can trust you,--Mrs. Balfame was out that night, and she did take a revolver and fire it. I found it in the house on the night following her arrest. It was a thirty-eight. There was one bullet missing. It was found in the tree. Balfame was killed by a forty-one. She did not go out to shoot Balfame, but because she thought she saw a burglar in the grove. Her revolver went off accidentally--and she is the best shot out at the Club. But you will readily understand my reasons for suppressing these facts." Alys had turned her profile and was staring at a tree whose limbs creaked now and again with their weight of snow, sending down a powdery shower. Her thick short lashes were almost together before a gleaming line of olive. "Oh! Who was her confederate?" "She hasn't the least idea as to the identity of the person beside her. It was dark, and she was too much excited. Naturally, she would be very glad to know." "Well, suppose we dismiss that part of it. We should never get anywhere. Only--don't take the stand and make a dramatic confession." "Dramatic?" Once more the red tide rose. His blue eyes snapped. "Melodramatic would perhaps be the better word. Sarah and I are hot on the trail of the right word. But tell me honestly--shouldn't you feel rather a fool? It is such a very theatric--stagey--thing to do." "Oh!" He wheeled about and kicked a fallen log. "Do you suppose I have given a thought to that aspect of it?" "No, more is the pity, but as you have a good sense of humour, I rather wonder at it. However--these are not the only things I followed you into the woods to say." "You had it in your mind, then, to find out if what Mrs. Balfame told Mrs. Cummack was true--that I purposed to free her one way or another?" "Yes. I merely waited for the lead. I told you in the beginning that I did not care what I might confess to, or how angry I made you. What does it matter?" "You cannot make me angry, although there are some things I cannot discuss with you." "Of course not. Let us ignore Possible Sacrifice Number Two, and assume that Mrs. Balfame is acquitted,--which no doubt will be the case; few are worrying; and further assume that you will marry her; that she will marry you is the way she put it, not being an artist in words. Once more we will dismiss both subjects. Yes?" She was stooping to recover her muff, and he noticed that her hands were shaking and that the dusky pink was in her cheeks for the first time. "I am only too ready. But--there is little else for us to talk about!" "Yes, there is! When people are on their deathbeds they can afford to be truthful, and you have dug your grave and mine."