Then, for his own doubts concerning it. He threw his thoughts back to that time, just before Ricardo’s death, when Hannah had begun to coquet with him, and he had been foolish and dishonourable enough to meet her advances half-way--to the quarrels she had with her husband--to Ricardo’s assurance to him that she made his life a hell, and he could stand it no longer--to his hints about taking his life--to his (Von Steinberg’s) cautions to Hannah on the same subject--and then, to his friend’s sudden demise, to that awful night when he was called to the Cottage and found the Professor, dead--by his own hand as he then fully thought--and the subsequent decision he had arrived at, partly because he believed it to be a duty on his part. But now, in a moment, the truth seemed to flash upon him, and he wondered that he had been so blind as not to see it from the beginning. Hannah had been discontented and repining from the time he had come into his uncle’s property--she had coveted it--his own folly had encouraged her to think she could gain it--Ricardo was the obstacle, and so----Von Steinberg groaned within himself as he thought these things, and that his dearest friend had paid the forfeit of his own good fortune. But it must be put an end to at once--his suspicions must be allayed, or turned into certainties--he would not sleep one night under the same roof as Ricardo’s murderess--there must be a separation between them, now and for ever. The house was again quiet, the guests had all departed, and Von Steinberg took his way up to his wife’s room. He thought that Hannah knew nothing of what had occurred, so he resolved not to be too violent, but to extract the truth from her by degrees. He found her standing by the side of her sumptuous bed, with its hangings of rich brocade, looking rather white and weary, but with a sparkle of determination in her eye, as if she guessed what was coming and had her weapons ready. Von Steinberg for his part appeared completely crushed--the revelation of the last hour had knocked all his manhood out of him. “Well!” began Hannah, abruptly, “and what may you want here?” “I have come expressly to see you, Hannah! I wish to speak to you! Why did you not tell me that you were giving these séances?” “Because I do not acknowledge that it is any business of yours,” she answered carelessly, “they are my own concern altogether!” “Perhaps! but as I have asked you frequently to give me a sitting, and you have systematically refused, it is strange that you should leave me to hear that you are constantly holding these meetings, from a stranger at my club.” “Yes?” said Hannah, nonchalantly.