"You wrong me," answered the other rather hotly. "That is really
unreasonable. Emphatically the incident made no sort of difference,
for the very good reason that she was not in the case, save as an
innocent sufferer from the evil actions of others. She helped me
rather than hindered me. Despite all she was called to endure, she
kept her nerve from the first and fought her own grief that she
might make everything clear to me. If I did come to love her, that
made no sort of difference to my attitude to my work."

"But it made a mighty lot of difference to your attitude to her.
However, your word runs with me, Mark, and I'm very willing to
attach all due importance to your conclusions. But I am not in the
least willing to accept your estimate of anybody's character without
further proofs. You mustn't feel it personal. Only remember that I'm
not in this case for my health, and, so far, I have had no reason
whatever to eliminate anybody."

"We know some things without proof and are proud to take them on
trust," answered Brendon. "Have I not seen Mrs. Doria under
affliction and in situations unspeakably difficult? She has been
marvellously brave. After her own great sorrow, her only thought was
her unfortunate relations. She buried her own crushing grief--"

"And in nine months was married to another man."

"She is young and you have seen for yourself what her husband is.
Who can tell what measures he took to win her? All I know is that
she has made an appalling mistake. Perhaps I feel it rather than
know it; but I'm positive."

"Well," said Peter quietly. "It's no good playing about. At a seemly
opportunity, after her husband died, I guess you told her you loved
her and asked her to marry you. She declined; but it didn't end
there. She's got you on the string at this moment."

"That's not true, Ganns. You don't understand me--or her."

"Well, I do not ask much; but since I have picked up this thing for
Albert's sake, there's one point on which I insist. If you are going
to take Jenny into your confidence and assume that she has no wish
or desire other than to see justice done and the mystery cleared,
then I can't work with you, Mark."

"You wrong her, but that doesn't matter, I suppose. What does matter
is that you wrong me," said Brendon, with fierce eyes fixed upon the
elder. "I've never thought or dreamed of confiding in her, or
anybody else. I've nothing to confide, for that matter. I did love
her, and I do