"Well? What follows? Even so you were my guest." "When--when you believed I'd done that thing?" "I didn't say that I did believe it; you jump at conclusions." "Do you believe it?" "I am not sure that I do." "You are not sure!" She twisted herself round towards him, heat in her voice, fire in her eyes. "You are not sure! How dare you--how dare you say----" She stopped; as if suddenly conscious that her warmth was uncalled for; continuing, with downcast eyes, in a different tone: "What do you mean, when you say, you are not sure?" "I mean that I don't believe you did do it. Still, in order that we may have all things shipshape and aboveboard, I confess that I should like to have your assurance that you didn't." She was silent. "Won't you give it?" "I'm not sure that I can." "Can?--or will?" "I--I'm not sure if I did do it, or if I didn't." She put her hands up before her face; he could see her shivering. He eyed her with what seemed to be growing curiosity. "What was George Emmett to you?" "Nothing! Nothing! I hated him!" "That would seem to suggest that he might have been something to you once; or--you would hardly hate him." "I don't know what you mean; he never was anything to me--never--except my guardian; at least, he said he was my guardian; and I suppose he was; but from the first moment I saw him I hated him." "Isn't that, under the circumstances, rather a dangerous admission to make?" "Why?" "Mayn't some people think that your feeling towards him may have furnished a motive for--what happened?" "Do you mean that some people may think that because I hated him I killed him? I hadn't the courage; I shouldn't have dared, I'm such a coward; it's because I'm such a coward that I'm here--it's all my cowardice!" She sat with clenched fists staring in front of her; there was something in her expression which suggested to her companion that she was not quite such a coward as she asserted. When he spoke again it was as if a note of sympathy had, unawares, crept into his voice. "You observed, Miss Gilbert, that George Emmett was your guardian, which seems to point to your having lost at least one of your parents. Is it your mother?" "I never knew my mother--never; so far as I know, I never even saw her. I suppose I must have had a mother, but I don't know who she was, or anything at all about her." "And your father?" "I believe I was three years old when I saw him last, and now Mr Emmett says he is dead." "Mr Emmett says? I presume you have some proof of the fact beyond Mr Emmett's bare word." "I daresay the Sisters have." "What Sisters?" "At the convent." "At the convent? Were you in a convent?" "Of course; I was at the Convent of the Sacré C[oe]ur at Vannes--Vannes is in Brittany, if you know where that is." "I do happen to know where that is; indeed, I happen to have some knowledge of Vannes. Were there any other girls there besides you?" "Lots and lots, at different times."