"I can tell you nothing." Wrayson was speechless for a moment.

It was not only the words themselves, but the note of absolute finality with which they were uttered, which staggered him.

Then he found himself laughing, a sound so unnatural and ominous that, for the first time, fear shone in the girl's eyes.
"Don't," she cried, and her hands flashed towards him for a moment as though the sight of him hurt her.

"Don't be angry! Have pity on me instead." His nerves, already overwrought, gave way.
"Pity on a murderess, a thief!" he cried.

"Not I! I have suffered enough for my folly.