"I don't want to dwell on matters that must pain you--that must pain us
both," he said slowly, "but it is necessary that you should be made
acquainted with the danger that threatens me from this man. I am anxious
to avoid anything in the nature of a public scandal--I am anxious quite
as much if not more on your account than my own. But if this wretched man
is allowed to go on trying to build up a case against me--and I must
admit that he would probably obtain circumstantial evidence of a kind
which would make some sort of a case for the prosecution--there is grave
danger of everything coming out. If he went to the length of having me
arrested and charged with the crime, there are bound to be some
disclosures and the newspapers would make the most of them. It is
impossible to foresee the exact nature of them, but I do not see how I
could adopt any line of defence which would not hint at things that are
best unrevealed. You yourself might be so ill-advised as to tell the
whole story in the end. Of course, I would try to prevent you, and as far
as the trial is concerned, I think I could use means to prevent you. But
if the result was unfavourable--and knowing what eccentric things juries
do, we must recognise the possibility of an unfavourable verdict--you
might consider it advisable to disclose everything in the hope of having
the conviction quashed by an appeal."
For the first time since she had sat down he looked at her, and as he
caught her upward gaze he flushed.
"I would tell everything if you were arrested," she said, in a low voice.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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