"You threw it into the dustbin after killing that poor woman!" "Laura!" Calvert rose to his feet pale and trembling. From being a calm and resolute man he suddenly seemed to change into a coward. With white lips and a drooping figure, he stood in the middle of the room. "You will never say anything more cruel than that to me," he said in a low voice, and covered his face. Laura looked with sudden joy overspreading her face. "You are innocent," she cried, running to throw her arms round his neck. "I knew it. I was certain. Dearest, I never believed--never. I said what I did say only to try you. But I know now that you did not kill this woman. I feel it in my heart. You forgive me--you forgive me--come, kiss me, Arnold--kiss me and make friends." In a lifeless manner he kissed her, and then submitted to be taken to his former seat. "Now that we understand one another," said Laura, sitting down and keeping his hand imprisoned within her own, "we must have a long talk. You are innocent----" "How can you be sure of that?" "Because I am," she replied determinedly. "No, Arnold. Even if you swore that you were guilty I would not believe it. I tried you by making what you truthfully call a cruel speech, and your reply, although it may sound nothing to other people, brought conviction into my heart. But if I trust you, other people don't. This dagger!" "Where was it found?" asked Calvert, examining it, but still pale. "In the dustbin. The cook found it. She brought it to Julia, who pretended that it was one she had worn at a fancy ball. Then Julia hinted at your guilt, from the fact that you must have worn such a dagger in the second act of the play. I denied that this was so, and came to see you. Arnold, you must be plain with me. For some time, since the murder in fact, you must have seen how I have avoided you--how I have kept out of your way." "Yes," he said with bitterness, "I saw that. When I called at the house on that day a week or so ago, you avoided me. You have hardly replied to my letters save in the coldest way. You suspect me----" "No," answered Laura quickly; "I do not, though I have cause to." Arnold looked at her keenly. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly. "Surely you remember the appointment you made with me?" "What appointment?" he said, still eyeing her, and the colour again ebbing from his face. "For the night of the 24th July at half-past nine--on the very night that poor creature was killed." "Laura!" his voice was firmer now, and his looks expressed amazement; "it was you who made the appointment. You sent me----"