"By asking you how you killed your husband." She sprang to her feet with a pale face, her eyes flashing fiercely. "It's a lie! You know I had nothing to do with it." "I'm afraid a jury wouldn't take that view if they heard my evidence." "Your evidence! the evidence of a felon." "That's a pretty name, but instead of abusing me, you'd better look after yourself." Mrs. Belswin sat down again and spoke deliberately. "I don't know what your object is in talking like this, but I will take it as a favour if you will let me know precisely how you connect me with my late husband's death. You say I killed him. You hint you can prove it. That's a lie, because if that was the case I should be in prison now. No! No! Mr. Damberton, you are not the man to spare a woman." "Certainly not you, who have made my life a hell for the last few months." "We can exchange these compliments afterwards. First your story." Dombrain, who was growing weary of all this fencing, lost no time in responding to this request, and began at once. "As you know, I was staying at Thornstream on the night you arrived. Ostensibly, I had come down to see Sir Rupert on business, but my real motive was to see how you intended to meet him. You did not appear at dinner, and I thought you would put off the interview until the next day. I was tired with my day's work, and was about to retire to rest when I saw you descending the stairs, upon which I hid myself, lest you should see me." "Coward!" ejaculated Mrs. Belswin, disdainfully. "No, I was no coward, but had I been foolish enough to have spoken to you, in one of your paroxysms of anger, you might have revealed my true position to Sir Rupert, out of spite." Mrs. Belswin thought how she had really done this, and how ignorant the man before her was of his narrow escape from exposure--an exposure only prevented by the death of Pethram.