"I told you before," replied Cass, coolly, "and you flew in a rage with me, saying that I had no grounds for the statement. Now you have learned the grounds, and I repeat my belief. This Zirknitz is the lover of Mrs. Moxton, and she is shielding him from the consequences of having killed her husband--no doubt at her request." "I can't--I won't believe it of that poor woman, Harry." "Facts are stubborn things, Bob. The case is as clear as noonday to me." Ellis, still believing in the innocence of the woman he loved, would have replied somewhat violently to this declaration, but that Mrs. Basket entered with the supper. It was now seven o'clock, for since Cass had been appointed critic to the _Early Bird_ they had altered the meal from nine to seven. In a few minutes Mrs. Basket, not being encouraged to chatter on this particular night, left the room wondering what could be the matter with her gentlemen. Ellis trifled with his food, feeling too worried to enjoy it, but the less nervous Cass did full justice to Mrs. Basket's idea of an Irish stew. Between mouthfuls he talked and answered the doctor's objections. "It is all nonsense Mrs. Basket saying that Mrs. Moxton had no visitors. Both she and her husband, from what you tell me, must be shady people. Poor devil! He is dead, so let us say no ill of him. But Mrs. Moxton. I daresay she received visitors at night when Mrs. Basket and her tradesmen spies were not about." "You have no grounds for making such an accusation," fumed Ellis. "Keep calm, Bob. I am speaking without prejudice. No grounds! Well, if I have not, why did Mrs. Moxton faint at the mention of that name? Why did she lie about the signs? Why did she feign ignorance of the place where her husband went every night? She must have known. I tell you, Bob, that Mrs. Moxton is fighting every inch, and I daresay she is angry at your persistence in following up the case. Come, now, own up! Did she not ask you to leave the matter alone?" "Well, she did," admitted the doctor, with reluctance. "I confess that I do not understand Mrs. Moxton. Her acts are doubtful, her words are strange, and I agree with you that she knows more about this matter than she chooses to confess. All the same, Harry, I am not an absolute fool, even where women are concerned; and there is something in Mrs. Moxton's looks and manner which satisfies me that she is a true, good, pure, brave woman." "H'm! her conduct does not justify the use of a single adjective of that sort." "I know! I know! All the same, I believe in her." "Because you are in love, and love is blind." "Rubbish! I don't believe in that worn-out saying. I can see Mrs. Moxton's imperfections as plainly as you can. She is not a saint by any manner of means,--but a sinner? No, Harry, I cannot believe she is what you make her out. If she inspired the murder, why does she not run away?" "Because she is fighting for her fortune, old boy." "But she is not even certain that a will is in existence."