"
"I don't blame you for thinking it before the trial," said Rachel. "It
seems to have been the universal opinion."
"I formed mine for myself, and I had a particular reason for forming
it," continued Steel, with a marked vibration in his usually unemotional
voice. "I don't know which to tell you first.... Well, it shall be that
reason. On the night of the murder do you remember coming downstairs
and going or rather looking into the study--at one o'clock in the
morning?"
Rachel recoiled in her chair.
"Heavens!" she cried. "How can you know that?"
"Did you hear nothing as you went upstairs again?"
"I don't remember."
"Not a rattle at the letter-box?"
"Yes! Yes! Now I do remember. And it was actually you!"
"It was, indeed," said Steel, gravely. "I saw you come down, I saw you
peep in--all dread and reluctance! I saw you recoil, I saw the face with
which you shut those doors and put out the lights. And afterwards I
learned from the medical evidence that your husband must have been dead
at that time; one thing I knew, and that was that he was not shot during
the next hour and more, for I waited about until half-past two in the
hope that he would come out.
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