"And what was that? It is neglectful of me, I know, but I never see the
Times."

"It held you entirely responsible for the death of those poor men in
Chicago," she told him. "It named you as their murderer."

"A very sensible paper, the Times," he agreed. "The responsibility was
entirely mine."

She looked at him for a moment in horror.

"You can dare to admit that here--to me?"

"Why not?" he answered calmly. "So long as it is my conviction, why not
proclaim it? I love the truth. It is the one virtue which has never
been denied me."

Her eyes flashed. She made no effort whatever to conceal her
detestation.

"And they let you go--those Americans?" she cried. "I do not
understand!"

"There are probably many other considerations in connection with the
affair which you do not understand," he observed. "However--they had
their opportunity. I walked the streets openly, I travelled to New York
openly, I took my steamer ticket to England under my own name. The
papers, I believe, chronicled every stage of my journey."

"It was disgraceful!" she declared. "The people in office over there