irresistible strength. I fought against him in vain. He laid me on
the sofa. He bent over me like a whirlwind and smothered me with hot
kisses.

"My darling," he cried, "my darling, then this shock hasn't killed
you! It hasn't stunned you like the last! You're still your own dear
self! You've still strength to think and plan exactly what one would
expect from you. Oh! Una, my Una, you must wait and hear all. When
you've learned HOW it happened, you won't wish to act so rashly."

I struggled to free myself, though his arms were hard and close like
a strong man's around me.

"Let me go, Jack!" I cried feebly, trying to tear myself from his
grasp. "I love you better than I love my own life. If I would have
given YOU up, how much more must I give up myself, now I know it was
I who really did it!"

He held me down by main force. He pinned me to the sofa. I suppose
it's because I'm a woman, and weak, and all that--but I liked even
then to feel how strong and how big he was, and how feeble I was
myself, like a child in his arms. And I resisted on purpose, just to
feel him hold me. Somehow, I couldn't realize, after all, that I was
indeed a murderess. It didn't seem possible. I couldn't believe it
was in me.

"Jack," I said slowly, giving way at last, and letting him hold me
down with his small strong hands and slender iron wrist, "tell me,
if you will, how I came to do it. I'll sit here quite still, if only
you'll tell me. Am I really a murderess?"