'I know enough of it, Hugh, to despise it; and I know you much better than you know yourself. You are not one of the men who can tell lies and make them seem the truth. I don't think my name will suffer. I shall stand by you from first to last. The real true story can't possibly be improved upon. That woman had every motive for deceiving you, and her disappearance is all against her. You have to confess your hot-headedness--that can't be helped. You tell everything--even down to the mistake about the telegram. I shall go with you to the police-station; I shall be at the inquest; I shall be at the court. It's the only chance.' 'Good God! how can I let you do this?' 'You had rather, then, that I seemed to hide away? You had rather set people thinking that there is coldness between us? We must go up tonight. Look out the trains, quick.' 'But your mother, Sibyl----' 'She is dead; she cares nothing. I have to think of my husband.' Hugh caught her and crushed her in his arms. 'My darling, worse than killing a man who never harmed me was to think wrong of you!' Her face had grown very pale. She closed her eyes, smiled faintly as she leaned her head against him, and of a sudden burst into tears. CHAPTER 14 'It shows one's ignorance of such matters,' said Harvey Rolfe, with something of causticity in his humour, when Alma came home after midnight. 'I should have thought that, by way of preparing for tomorrow, you would have quietly rested today.' He looked round at her. Alma had entered the study as usual, and was taking off her gloves; but the effort of supporting herself seemed too great, she trembled towards the nearest chair, and affected to laugh at her feebleness as she sank down. 'Rest will come _after_,' she said, in such a voice as sounds from a parched and quivering throat. 'I'll take good care of that,' Harvey remarked. 'To look at you is almost enough to make me play the brutal husband, and say that I'll be hanged if you go out tomorrow at all.' She laughed--a ghostly merriment. 'Where have you been?' 'Oh, at several places. I met Mr. Carnaby at lunch,' she added quickly. 'He told me he was going somewhere--I forget--oh, to Weymouth, to see Mrs. Larkfield.' Harvey was watching her, and paid little attention to the news. 'Do you know, it wouldn't much surprise me if you couldn't get up tomorrow morning, let alone play at a concert. Well, I won't keep you talking. Go to bed.' 'Yes.' She rose, but instead of turning to the door, moved towards where Harvey was sitting. 'Don't be angry with me,' she murmured in a shamefaced way. 'It wasn't very wise--I've over-excited myself but I shall be all right tomorrow; and afterwards I'll behave more sensibly--I promise----' He nodded; but Alma bent over him, and touched his forehead with her lips. 'You're in a fever, I suppose you know?' 'I shall be all right tomorrow. Goodnight, dear.'