“I can’t,” she repeated. “It’s horrible, it’s unfair--if you’ll let me go, I’ll promise you I won’t betray you.” “You daren’t keep silent about me,” he answered. “How can I let you go?” “I’m telling you the truth,” she said simply. “Then tell me who sent you here,” he entreated her. “You know what it means to me; you can guess what it means to you. If you tell me, it may save us both.” “I can’t!” she cried. “I can’t! Oh, please, please!” He took her in his arms, roughly, exasperated by her denial. “By God, I’ll make you tell!” he said angrily. “Don’t touch me,” she said shuddering. “Who sent you here?” he demanded, not releasing her. “I’m afraid,” she groaned. “Oh, I’m afraid. I hate you! I hate you! Let me go! let me go!” “Who sent you here?” he repeated, still holding her. “I’ll tell,” she said brokenly. Then, when he let her go, she sank into a chair. “I can’t go through with it--you’ve beaten me--Oh, I tried so hard, so hard, but you’ve won. It’s too unfair when it’s not my fault. You can’t understand, or you wouldn’t spoil my whole life like this. It’s not only me, it’s my mother, my sister--Amy.” Denby, watching her hardly controllable agitation, was forced to readjust his opinion concerning her. This was not any adventuress trained in artifice and ruse, but the woman he had thought her to be in the deepest sorrow. The bringing in of her mother and sister was not, he felt sure, a device employed merely to gain his sympathy and induce leniency in her captor. And when it seemed she must sob out a confession of those complex motives which had led her to seek his betrayal, Denby saw her clench her hands and pull herself together. “No,” she said, rising to her feet, her weakness cast off, “I won’t quit--no matter what happens to me. I’ll expose you, and tell them everything. I’ll let them decide between us--whether they’ll believe you or me. It’s either you or my sister, and I’ll save her.” He was now more than ever certain he was stumbling upon something which would bring him the blessed assurance that she had not sold herself for reward. “Your sister?” he cried eagerly. “They shan’t send her to prison,” the girl said doggedly. “You’re doing all this to save your sister from prison?” he asked her gently. “She depends on me so,” she answered dully. “They shan’t take her.” “Then you’ve been forced into this?” he asked. “You haven’t done it of your own free will?” “No, no,” she returned, “but what else could I do? She was my little sister; she came first.” “And you weren’t lying to me--trying to trick me for money?” “Can’t you see,” she said piteously, “that I wanted to save you, too, and wanted you to get away? I said you were innocent, but they wouldn’t believe me and said I had to go on or else they’d send Amy to prison. They have a warrant all ready for her in case I fail. That’s why I’m here. Oh, please, please, let me go.”