"If he was not at our office--where was he?
That is simple enough." "Answered in a moment!" said the Seraph, with impetuous certainty.
"Cecil!--to prove this man what he is, not for an instant to satisfy me--where were you at that time on the 15th ?" "The 15th!" "Where were you ?" pursued his friend.

"Were you at mess?
At the clubs?
Dressing for dinner ?--where--where?
There must be thousands of ways of remembering--thousands of people who'll prove it for you ?" Cecil stood mute still; his teeth clinched on his under lip.

He could not speak--a woman's reputation lay in his silence.
"Can't you remember ?" implored the Seraph.

"You will think--you must think!" There was a feverish entreaty in his voice.

That hunted helplessness with which a question so slight yet so momentous was received, was forcing in on him a thought that he flung away like an asp.
Cecil looked both of them full in the eyes--both his accuser and his friend.