But it must be done. She made herself ready for the street with benumbed fingers, till the thought of Craig again arrested her. Should she wait for him? He entered as she hesitated. "Rested, Jean?" he called cheerily, delaying a moment in the hall. "Here are your papers. The boy said you wanted them." Then, from the threshold, "You're ill!" She caught one of the newspapers from him and struck it open. Its head-lines shouted confirmation of the reporter's words. "Look!" "'Footlight favorite ... damaging letter ... journalistic enterprise,'" he repeated. "You see what it means?" "Wait, wait!" He read on feverishly to the end. Jean gave a last mechanical touch to her veil. "I am going down to police headquarters to tell what I know, Craig." "No," he cried. "You must not mix in this again. You shall not. There is some better way. We must think it out. There is Bartlett--he knows!" "Through me!" "I think he'd be willing--no; that's folly. We can't ask the man to perjure himself. We must hit on something else. You must not be the one. Think what it might mean!" "I've thought." "They would dig up the past--all your acquaintance with Amy. The Wilkes creature's tongue could never be stopped. She doesn't know now that Mrs. Atwood means Jean Fanshaw. She must not know. Take no rash step. We must wait, temporize." "Temporize with an innocent person accused of crime!" "They don't accuse her yet--formally. She is held--detained--whatever the lawyer's jargon is. She isn't convicted. She never will be. They can't convict her on one letter.--I doubt if they'll indict her. Why, she may prove an alibi at once! Wait, Jean, wait! She's merely under suspicion of--" "Murder!" She stripped away his sophistries with a word. "Isn't that enough? What of her feelings while we wait? Is it nothing to be suspected of killing a man?" "What is her reputation now? Unspeakable!" "More reason that we make it no worse. No, no, Craig; I must do this thing at any cost." He threw out his hands in impassioned appeal. "Any cost! Any cost!" he cried. "Do you realize what you're saying? Will you let her rag of a reputation weigh against your own, against the position you've fought for, against my good name? If you won't spare yourself, spare me!" "Craig!" she implored, "be just!" "I am only asking you to wait. A night may change everything. It can't make her name blacker; it may save you." "Suppose it changes nothing; suppose no alibi is proved; suppose they do indict! How would my delay look then? Can't you see that my way is the only way? Don't think I'm not counting the cost." Her voice wavered and she shut her eyes against his unnerving face which seemed to have shed its boyishness forever, against this room which everywhere bespoke the future she jeopardized. "I do! I do! But we must go--go at once." His face set sternly. "I refuse." "Craig!"