CHAPTER XXXIII.
WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER "You think my conclusions must be correct ?" I could not refrain from asking.
"Yes; even without seeing the letter, but," and she glanced up quickly, "the ring--Philip's ring--we found ?" "I forgot to mention that.

Its presence here alone is convincing.

It was sent to Charles Henley by his agent, who claimed to have removed it from the finger of the dead man." "Then every doubt is removed; the one killed was my hus--husband." There was a long, painful silence, during which I stared out into the dark, mechanically guiding the boat, although every thought centered on her motionless figure.

What should I say?
how was I to approach her now?
Before there had always been a frank spirit of comradeship between us; no reserve, no hesitancy in the exchange of confidences.
But with this assurance of Philip Henley's death, everything was changed.

I longed to go to her and pour out my sympathy, but some instinct held me back, held me wordless.