She made no answer to him, and he went on. "It seems like some folks was sort of born under a cloud, don't it? I'm one of them, I reckon. All this has been my fault. I'm sorry as I can be. Can't you forgive me, Miss Lane, can't you forgive me any?" "You didn't hear the anthem," said Aurora Lane, "because you were not in church. It said 'Whosoever.' It said 'All ye.'" "In some ways," said Eph Adamson slowly--they had been for some time quite apart from the others, walking on slowly--"it seems like you and me was living our lives pretty much alike, don't it, Miss Lane? It's funny, ain't it--we hadn't either of us been to church--not in twenty years!" None the less, as of old, these others passed by upon the other side, and left unattended those whose wounds were grievous. At the corner of her street Aurora Lane paused. "Good-by, Mr. Adamson," said she. "Good night. I don't want to be unjust to anyone. I'm going to try not to blame you--I'd like to forgive all the world if I could. I'm in great trouble now." He broke out in a sullen rage. "Forgive? Do that if you can," said he. "I can't. Maybe a woman can--but forgiving ain't in my line. Well, I'd give anything I could in the world if I hadn't said what I did yesterday right there on the public square. All this has come out of that--this whole trouble. You're different from what I thought. You're a good woman. I take off my hat to you." "I take off my hat to you," mowed the idiot also, imitating what he saw and heard.... "May I see you home--may I see you home tonight? I'm--I'm out--I was out all last night. They can't pitch on us. Whip any man in Jackson County. Good night--good night, Ma'am. I'm sorry--I'm sorry, too." CHAPTER XVIII AT THE COUNTY JAIL Neither Judge Henderson nor his ward attended church services this Sunday evening, the former because of a certain physical reaction which disposed him to slumber, the latter because she had other plans of her own. The great white house, with its wide flanking grounds, where Judge Henderson had so long lived in somewhat solitary state, was now lighted up from top to bottom; but presently a light in an upper window vanished. Anne Oglesby tiptoed down the stair side by side with the housekeeper. She cast a glance of inquiry into the front parlor, where, prone upon a large couch, was Judge Henderson--rendering audible tribute to Morpheus. "He's violating the town ordinance about the muffler cut-out," said Anne smilingly to the housekeeper. "Oh, don't wake him--I'll be back presently--tell him." She hurried through the yard and down the street toward the central part of the town. The streets about the square now were well-nigh deserted, since most folk were in the churches. Her own destination was a square or two beyond the courthouse, where stood another brick building of public interest; in short, the county jail.