"That would be a natural consequence," Gifford admitted frankly. "But
there was in my mind always a growing doubt whether the wound had not
been given accidentally. And that doubt became almost certainty when the
real identity of Henshaw's victim became apparent."
Edith Morriston looked at him steadily. "You know it--for certain?" she
asked almost coldly.
"Naturally I cannot fail to know it now," he answered sympathetically.
She gave a rather bitter laugh. "I shall not deny it to you, Mr. Gifford,
even if I thought it could be of any use. But, knowing so much, you owe
it to me to hear my explanation of matters which look so black against
me, and above all to accept my absolute assurance that so far as I am
concerned Clement Henshaw's wound was quite accidental. Indeed I never
dreamt that he had been hurt until his body was found."
Gifford seized her hand by an irresistible impulse.
"Miss Morriston, if you only knew how glad and relieved I am to hear you
say that!" he exclaimed.
"When you hear my story," she said, composedly but with an underlying
bitterness which was hardly to be concealed, "the story of a long
martyrdom of persecution--for it has been nothing less--you will acquit
me of being guilty of anything disreputable.
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