"Luck in odd numbers," he replied gaily, "we don't celebrate our anniversary more than once a year. Just one more, Miriam, and then to bed." She looked at him in reproof. "It's the thin end of the wedge, Gerald--you know your weakness!" He turned on her angrily. "I ought to; you're always telling me of it." "Gerald, that is unjust. You know I speak only for your good." "People invariably do when they have anything disagreeable to say. Hang it, Miriam, you might leave me alone for once in a way. I am awfully sick of your everlasting preaching. Goodness knows I've given up quite enough for you as it is. I never get the taste of a glass of wine; a drop of whiskey at night's my only comfort." "A comfort which means ruin to you, Gerald--you know it." "Jove! how like a woman that is--always ready to picture the worst of horrors. Why, I'd like you to see some fellows! What they drink in a night would keep me going a twelvemonth." "Gerald, how can you speak so foolishly when you know how it is with you! Didn't you beg of me----" "Oh, damn it, do leave me alone. Preach, preach, preach, from morning till night. After all you're not such a purified saint as all that yourself. You forget you sang in the chorus at a music-hall once!" "I did, and you knew it, and why I had to do it, before you married me." "Perhaps I did; but there are some things you took precious good care I should not know--Jabez, for instance! Who is he?" She did not flinch, although she was hurt to the quick. She looked into the fire, with her head resting on her hand. "Jabez is a man with whom you can have nothing to do. He passed out of my life two years ago. I have never seen him since." "He was evidently very much in it once. Oh, Julia told me all about your little goings on--how you met him on the quiet, and gave him money, and worse even than that!" "Gerald, what do you mean?" "Why, what I say. According to Mrs. Darrow, you primed this chap to steal Uncle Barton's will." "And you believe that?" "I--I don't know. I can't say. At all events he threatened to kill my uncle, and the old man _was_ killed the very next night!" "He was not killed by Jabez." "How do you know that?" "Because I am sure of it. Jabez had no reason to harm Mr. Barton. As to the will, I will only ask you--to put it on the lowest possible grounds--what had I to gain by its disappearance?" "This, that you wanted to see me done out of the money. You know how you were always preaching to me on that subject, and urging me not to take it, saying that it would be my ruin, and I don't know what else!" "And so it would have been. You know well that if you had inherited that money you would have been in your grave by now." "Now look here, Miriam, I've had about enough of this. I'll drink what I jolly well please. Here goes." He poured out nearly half a tumbler of whiskey, and drank it down. "Now then, what have you to say?"