"And as a woman you believe this woman innocent?"

"I do."

It was hard enough to say no more than that; but Rachel was very fresh
from her great lesson in self-control.

"It is easy to see that you do not," she merely permitted herself to
add.

"On the contrary," said he, with great precision; "on the contrary, my
dear madam, I believe this poor lady to be as innocent as yourself."

Again their eyes were locked; again Rachel drew the only inference from
so pointed a pronouncement, and yet again was the impression shaken by
her companion's next words.

"But I really have no right to an opinion," said he; "since, unlike you,
I cannot claim to have read the case. Nor is that the interesting thing
now." The stations had come and gone, until now they were at Victoria.
The speaker looked out of the window, until they were off again, and off
by themselves as before. "The interesting thing, to me, is not what this
poor lady has or has not done, but what on earth she is going to do
now!"

He looked at her again, and now Rachel was sure. But there was a
kindness in his look that did away both with resentment and regret.

"They say she has literally no friends in England," he went on, with
unconcealed concern. "That is incredible; and yet, if there be any truth