"
Ah, yes, surely George Masson was right! That was what he had said about
his child, Zoe. What a good thing it was he had not killed the ravager of
his home!
But suddenly his logic came to his aid. In terrible misery as he was, he
was almost pleased that he could reason. "And you would give me over to
the law? You would send me to the gallows--and spoil your child's life?"
he retorted.
She threw the knitting down and flung her hands up. "I have no husband. I
have no child. Take your life. Take it. I will go and find his body," she
said, and she moved swiftly towards the door. "He has gone down the
river--I will find him!"
"He has gone up the river," he exclaimed. "Up the river, I say!"
She stopped short and looked at him blankly. Then his meaning became
clear to her.
"You did not kill him?" she asked scarce above a whisper.
"I let him go," he replied.
"You did not fight him--why?" There was scorn in her tone.
"And if I had killed him that way?" he asked with terrible logic, as he
thought.
"There was little chance of that," she replied scornfully, and steadied
herself against a chair; for, now that the suspense was over, she felt as
though she had been passed between stones which ground the strength out
of her.
A flush of fierce resentment crossed over his face. "It is not everything
to be big," he rejoined.
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