f myself. But I can't
bear the doubt.'

'_Doubt._ You've said the word at last.'

'I tell myself that I don't believe a word of these horrible charges. I
repeat to myself: I'm certain, I'm certain that he's innocent.'

She gathered strength in the desperation of her love, and now at the
crucial moment she had all the courage she needed.

'And yet at the bottom of my heart there's the doubt. And I _can't_
crush it.'

She waited for him to answer, but he did not speak.

'I wanted to kill that bitter pain of suspicion. I thought if I stood up
before them and cried out that my trust in you was so great, I was
willing to marry you notwithstanding everything--I should at last have
peace in my heart.'

Alec went to the window and looked out. The westering sun slanted across
the street. Carriages and motors were waiting at the door of the house
opposite, and a little crowd of footmen clustered about the steps. They
were giving a party, and through the open windows Alec could see a
throng of women. The sky was very blue. He turned back to Lucy.

'Will you show me the second letter of which you speak?'

'Haven't you seen it?' she asked in astonishment.

'I was so busy, I had no time to look at the papers. I suppose no one
thought it his business to draw my attention to it.'

Lucy went into the second drawing-room, divided from that in which they
sat by an archway, and brought him the copy of the _Daily Mail_ for
which he asked. She gave it, and he took it silently. He sat down and
with attention read the letter through. He observed with bitter scorn
the thoroughness with which Macinnery had set out the case against him.
In this letter he filled up the gaps which had been left in the first,
adding here and there details which gave a greater coherency to the
whole; and his evidence had an air of truth, since he quoted the very
words of porters and askari who had been on the expedition. It was
wonderful what power had that small admixture of falsehood joined with
what was admittedly true, to change the whole aspect of the case. Alec
was obliged to confess that Lucy had good grounds for her suspicion.
There was a specious look about the story, which would have made him
credit it himself if some other man had been concerned. The facts were
given with sufficient exactness, and the untruth lay only in the motives
that were ascribed to him; but who could tell what another's motives
were? Alec put the paper on the table, and