He could not look at Harriet, but he understood the mood she was in, and knew she would not be the first to speak.

He rose, walked about for a few minutes, then stood still before her.
"What proof have you to offer," he said, speaking in a slow but indistinct tone, "that she is guilty of this, and that it isn't a plot you have laid against her ?" "You can believe what you like," she replied sullenly.

"Of course I know you'll do your worst against me." "I wish you to answer my question.

If I choose to suspect that you yourself put this brooch in her pocket--and if other people choose to suspect the same, knowing your enmity against her, what proof can you give that she is guilty ?" "It isn't the first thing she's stolen." "What proof have you that she took those other things ?" "Quite enough, I think.

At all events, they've found a pawn-ticket for the spoon at her lodgings, among a whole lot of other tickets for things she can't have come by honestly." Julian became silent, and, as Harriet looked up at him with eyes full of triumphant spite, he turned pale.