XXX No uniformed agent of pursuing justice confronted her; only the face of him she loved best; and the great uplifting wave of relief cast her breathless in Craig's arms. "Come away," he begged, his answering clasp the witness and the seal of their reconciliation. "Come away." "Craig!" she whispered. "Craig!" "I only just learned where you were. A reporter came to the studio, showed me his paper--" "Falsehoods! They perverted my words--" "I knew, I knew. I'm the one to blame, not you. If I'd gone home, stayed home, you would never have come here. Forgive me, Jean. I've been a fool." "Hush," she said, laying a hand upon his lips. "We were both wrong. But I must have come to Amy. After what she told me last night, there was no choice. You'll understand when I explain. It's ghastly clear." "But come away first. Don't give anyone a chance to ferret out your life, Jean. Why should you stay here now?" A low, convulsive moan issued from the bedroom. Jean sprang to the door. "Amy!" she called. "Don't be frightened. It's only Craig. Do you hear me? It was Craig who rang. I'll come to you soon." Atwood followed to the little parlor. "You see?" she said. "But there must be some one else, some other woman--" "There is no one who knows what I know. You must hear it, too, Craig. It's more than I can face alone. You must think for me, help me." And she poured the whole petrifying truth into his ears. "She must give herself up," he said, at last. "But--" And the dilemma of moral and legal guilt plagued her again. He brushed her tender casuistry aside. "The law must deal with such doubts," he answered. "We must help her face it, help her see that delay only counts against her. She must tell her story before they come at the facts without her." "She believes they suspect already. They've found out something about that wretched man's life,--the reporters don't say what,--and she lies in that room shaking with terror at every ring of the bell. We thought you were the police." "We must help her face it," he repeated. "I will drive her to police headquarters." "Not you, Craig. You must not. The papers shall not drag you into this again. I will go with her." "Isn't your name mine? You see it makes no difference. I'll not allow you to go through this alone. I've let you meet too much alone. We'll talk to Amy together, if you think best." Jean's glance fell on Grimes's gilt clock. "Amy has tasted nothing, and it's nearly noon," she said. "I must make coffee or something to give her strength. Wait till she has eaten." She started for the kitchen, but brought up, white-faced, at the recurring summons of the bell. Their eyes met in panic. Were they too late? The ring was repeated while they questioned. Jean took a faltering step toward the door, listening for an out-burst from the bedroom; but Amy seemed not to hear. Craig stepped before her into the hall. "Let me answer it," he said.