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to say. Especially he resented the look of desolate despair in Clarice's eyes, and the physical exhaustion and mental agony written in every line of her white face. He would not have liked to admit that he felt them all as so many trumpet-tongued accusers against him. "I desired you all to assemble," said the Earl, in tones as gentle as usual, but with an under-current of pain, "because I wish to inquire in what manner our poor little darling met her death. How came she to fall down the staircase?" He looked at Heliet, and she was the one to reply. "It was an accident, my Lord, I think," she said. "`You think?' Is there some doubt, then?" No one answered him but Ademar. "Pardon me, my Lord; I was not present." "Then I ask one who was present. Dame Heliet?" "I hope there is no doubt, my Lord," answered Heliet. "I should be sorry to think so." The bushy eyebrows, which were the only blemish to the handsome Plantagenet face of the Earl, were lowered at this reply. "What am I to understand by that?" he asked. "Did the child throw herself down of her own will?" "Oh, no, my Lord, no!" "Did any one push her down?" Dead silence. "Sir Ademar was not present. Were you, Sir Vivian?" Vivian, whose face was far more eloquent in this instance than his tongue, muttered an affirmative. "Then you can answer me. Did any one push her down?" Vivian's reply was unintelligible, being hardly articulate. "Will you have the goodness to repeat that, if you please?" said his master. In Clarice's heart a terrible tempest had been raging. Ought she not to speak, and declare the fact of which she felt sure, that Vivian had not been intentionally the murderer of his child? that whatever he might have done, he had meant no more than simply to push her aside? Conscientiousness strove hard with bitterness and revenge. Why should she go out of her way to shield the man who had been the misery of her life from the just penalty which he deserved for having made that life more desolate than ever? She knew that her voice would be the most potent there--that her vote would outweigh twenty others. The pleading of the bereaved mother in favour of the father of the dead child was just what would make its way straight to the heart of his judge. Clarice's own heart said passionately, No! Rosie's dead face must stand between him and her for ever. But then upon her spirit's fever fell calming words--words whi
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