Without replying the Admiral wheeled about in his swivel chair and looked through the window at the street below. Marjorie could read nothing from the side view of his face, and her heart sank. Suddenly he swung back and confronted her again. “I think it would be as well if you resigned,” he said, coldly. The room swam before Marjorie; she felt half suffocated, then hot anger came to her rescue, and she pulled herself together. “You are treating me with shameful injustice,” she began, her eyes glowing with indignation. “On the contrary, I am most lenient,” retorted the Admiral. “You have been guilty of a criminal act----” “I deny it absolutely,” exclaimed Marjorie passionately. “You have no grounds for such an accusation.” “You had both incentive and opportunity to steal that signed codicil,” declared the Admiral, paying scant attention to her denial. “Chichester Barnard stands to lose a hundred thousand dollars by that codicil; lack of funds prevents him from marrying a poor girl”--Marjorie winced visibly and bit her lips to hide their trembling. “You were the last person to leave this room yesterday afternoon; I never came in here again until this morning. You had the signed codicil in your possession, you knew the combination of the safe; the carbon copy was lying on this desk--the substitution was easy!” “Supposing your preposterous charge is true,” said Marjorie slowly. “What good could I hope to accomplish by such a substitution?” “After the excitement of signing the codicil, my wife suffered a relapse, and was not expected to live through the night. If she dies”--the Admiral shaded his eyes, which had grown moist, with his hand--“only the unsigned codicil is here; therefore Chichester Barnard, by the terms of her will, will inherit her bequest. However, my wife still lives, and when she regains consciousness I shall have her sign this carbon copy,” opening his desk drawer and removing a folded paper. “After all, you were only partially successful.” “To succeed, one must first undertake,” retorted Marjorie. “Tell me, please, if you thought I would betray your trust, why did you give me the codicil to place in the safe?” “First, because I was not aware you knew the contents of the paper; secondly, I never knew there was a carbon copy; thirdly, my wife’s precarious condition effectually put out of my mind your infatuation for Chichester Barnard.” “My infatuation?” echoed Marjorie, a slow, painful blush creeping up her white cheeks. “You are hardly complimentary, Admiral.” “Put it any way you wish,” he replied wearily. “I must ask you to hurry and gather your belongings, Miss Langdon, for I must return to my wife.”