“‘Can’t you see it all?’ I continued. ‘She came in here, and she shot him; and when she’d done it her nerves gave, and she said the first thing to me that came into her head.’ “‘If you’re right,’ he said heavily, ‘it means that Ruth will be tried for murder!’ He got up with his hands to his temples. ‘My God! Stratton,’ he cried, ‘this is awful. Premeditated murder, too—not done blindly in the middle of a quarrel, but a quarter of an hour after it was over.’ “‘That’s how it would strike a jury,’ I answered gravely. “‘Supposing she had done it suddenly, blindly’—he was talking half to himself—‘snatched the revolver off the table as he tried to make love to her, let’s say.’ And then he stopped and stared at me. “‘Supposing that had happened, it would be better for her to say so at once,’ I said. “‘But it didn’t happen,’ he answered; ‘it couldn’t have.’ “‘No,’ I agreed. ‘It didn’t happen; it couldn’t have. But supposing it had, Sir Edward, what then?’ “‘Stop, Stratton,’ he cried. ‘For Heaven’s sake, stop!’ “‘There’s no good stopping,’ I said. ‘We haven’t any time for argument. Your legal knowledge has suggested the same solution as occurred to me. If _now_, at once, when we send for the police, she says it was an accident—gives a complete story, chapter and verse——’ “‘Invents it, you mean,’ he interrupted. “‘Call it what you like,’ I said, ‘but, unless she does that and substantiates the story, she will be tried for the premeditated and wilful murder of her husband. She’ll have to be tried anyway, but if she makes a voluntary confession—makes a story out of it that will appeal to sentiment—they will acquit her. It’s the only chance.’ “‘But it’s monstrous, man,’ he muttered—only now his eyes were fixed on me questioningly. “‘Look here, Sir Edward,’ I said, ‘let’s discuss this matter calmly. Humanly speaking, we know what happened. Ruth came along that passage, opened this door, and shot her husband dead through the heart—that is the case as I should put it to the jury, the plain issue shorn of all its trappings. What is going to be the verdict?’ “Shoreham plucked at his collar as if he were fighting for breath. “‘If, on the other hand, the shot was not immediate—and I am the only witness as to that; if I had heard his voice raised in anger; if he had sprung at her, tried to kiss her, and she blindly, without thought, had snatched up the first thing that came to her hand, the revolver, not even knowing it was loaded—what then? The servants can be squared. She was talking wildly when she mentioned this man—didn’t know what she was saying. And then, when she got back to her room she realised that the truth was best, and rang you up, a Judge. What better possible proof could any jury have of her desire to conceal nothing? And you with your reputation on the Bench——’ “‘Ah, don’t, don’t!’ he cried hoarsely. ‘You’re driving me mad! You’re—you’re——!’ “‘Why, Ned, what’s the matter?’