Crimes had been spoken of which made the murder for which Oliver Hilditch had just been tried seem like a trifling indiscretion.
Hard though his mentality, sternly matter-of-fact as was his outlook, he was still unable to fully believe in himself, his surroundings, or in this woman who had just dropped a veil over her ashen cheeks.

Reason persisted in asserting itself.
"But if you knew all this," he demanded, "why on earth didn't you come forward and give evidence ?" "Because," she answered calmly, as she rose to her feet, "my evidence would not have been admissible.

I am Oliver Hilditch's wife.".