evidence of a degrading past.

A moment passed in silence that seemed a year of pain; then, without a
sob, without a sigh, she slowly handed him a bundle of papers,
withholding them only a moment as she verified the count; then, with a
slight movement she indicated the fireplace. He crossed to it and placed
the papers on the coals, where they flared a moment, casting wavering
shadows about the silent room, and died to black wisps. Again and again
he made the short journey from the bed to the grate; each time she
verified the contents of the envelopes before delivering them to his
hand.

Last of all the two yellow cheques crisped to ashes. He stood looking
down upon them as they dropped and collapsed into cinders, and from
their ashes rose the phoenix of happiness. A glow of joyful relief
lighted his spirit. There, in those dead ashes, lay a dead past--a past
that might have been the black future, but was now relinquished forever,
voluntarily--gone--gone! He realized a supreme moment, a turning point.
Fate looked him in the eyes.

He turned, and saw a face transfigured. There was a light in Mrs.
Marteen's eyes that matched the glow in his own heart. Very reverently
he raised her hand and kissed it; two sudden tears fell hot upon her
cheeks and her lips quivered.

He had never seen her show emotion, and it went to his heart. He saw her
gaze at her hands with dilating eyes, and divined before she spoke the
question she whispered:

"Who killed Victor Mahr?"