"And yet what?" he asked curtly. "You--you--wanted a thousand pounds." "Oh"--his lip curled--"and you believed that I robbed your father's safe to get it. Unfortunately, I understood, from your aunt's evidence at the inquest, that only one hundred pounds in gold were in the safe, so I must have committed a brutal murder needlessly." "I never said that you murdered my father," cried Bella despairingly. "You inferred as much," he retorted cuttingly; "also that I robbed----" "No, no, no!" she cried vehemently, now thoroughly believing him to be completely innocent, and trying woman-like to recover her position. "But, Cyril, listen to me, and you will see that as things look I was justified----" "Nothing can justify your believing me to be guilty of a double crime." Bella bowed her proud head. "I can see that now," she said humbly. "You should have seen it before," he replied harshly. She raised her head, and looked at him indignantly, bringing into play the powerful weapon of sex. "You give me no opportunity of defending myself," she said, in the offended tone of a woman wronged. "I ask your pardon, and give you the opportunity now," he replied coldly. "I saw you enter the house," she repeated somewhat weakly. "That is impossible," he rejoined briefly. "Oh!" She clasped her hands together. "What is the use of saying that? It was not you, since I firmly believe what you tell me; all the same----" Cyril sprang forward, seized her hands, and looked deep into her eyes "You believe me, then?" "Yes, I do. But if the man was not you, he must have been your double." "Was he so like me, then?" "Exactly like you. Don't I tell you, Cyril, that I leaned out of the window and spoke to the man. I called him by your name." "What did he do?" "He looked up, but making no sign of recognition stepped into the house, as the door was not locked. I never believed for one moment that it was not you, and resolved to clamber out of the window to be present at the interview. Then I drank the drugged tea, and----" she made a gesture of despair--"you know the rest." "How was the man dressed?" "In a grey suit, just as you wore in the afternoon." "You saw the face?" "I saw it very plainly, although the twilight was growing darker at the time. But I could have sworn it was your face. Would I have spoken to the man had I not believed him to be you?" "No, and yet"--Cyril stopped, and tugged at his moustache. His face had grown pale, and he looked decidedly worried. "The man was of my height?" "He was like you in every respect. Perhaps if I had seen him in broad daylight I might have recognised my mistake unless--oh, Cyril, could it have been your ghost?" "No," said Lister, in a strangled voice, "don't be absurd. I have an idea that----" he made for the door. "There's nothing more to say." "Cyril, will you leave me? Won't you kiss----"