strength of her lips. It was intolerable that she should
disbelieve him.

"Murder, if you want to know," he cried angrily. "That man
murdered his wife!"

"How?" she retorted.

"To all intents and purposes he murdered her. That day in Santa
Croce--did they say anything against me?"

"Not a word, Mr. Eager--not a single word."

"Oh, I thought they had been libelling me to you. But I suppose
it is only their personal charms that makes you defend them."

"I'm not defending them," said Lucy, losing her courage, and
relapsing into the old chaotic methods. "They're nothing to me."

"How could you think she was defending them?" said Miss Bartlett,
much discomfited by the unpleasant scene. The shopman was
possibly listening.

"She will find it difficult. For that man has murdered his wife
in the sight of God."

The addition of God was striking. But the chaplain was really
trying to qualify a rash remark. A silence followed which might
have been impressive, but was merely awkward. Then Miss Bartlett
hastily purchased the Leaning Tower, and led the way into the