Nightly--during the remainder of my days--I will pray for pardon.' He raised his head to ask sombrely: 'Is your handwriting like Laxley's ?' 'It seems so,' she answered, with a pitiful sneer for one who could arrest her exaltation to inquire about minutiae.

'Right or wrong, it is done, and if you choose to be my judge, think whether your own conscience is clear.

Why did you come here?
Why did you stay?
You have your free will,--do you deny that?
Oh, I will take the entire blame, but you must not be a hypocrite, Van.

You know you were aware.

We had no confidences.