listener to fictitious tales of horror, proved herself no less admirable
in listening to one of plain fact, and made no comment until her nephew
had finished.

"That poor man!" she said at last. "Such a fine, strong, healthy-looking
man, too! I used to wonder about him, when I saw him in the square, I
used to think of him as somebody who'd seen things!"

Viner made a sudden grimace.

"Don't!" he said. "Ugh! I've seen things tonight that I never wished to
see! And I wish--"

"What?" demanded Miss Penkridge after a pause, during which Viner had sat
staring at the floor.

"I wish to God I'd never seen that poor devil who was running away!"
exclaimed Viner with sudden passion. "They'll catch him, and I shall have
to give evidence against him, and my evidence'll hang him, and--"

"There's a lot to do, and a lot'll happen before that comes off,
Richard," interrupted Miss Penkridge. "The man may be innocent."

"He'd have a nice job to prove it!" said Viner with a forced laugh. "No,
if the police get him--besides, he was running straight from the place!
Isn't it a queer thing?" he went on, laughing again. "I don't mind
remembering the--the dead man, but I hate the recollection of that chap
hurrying away! I wonder what it feels like when you've just murdered
another fellow, to slink off like--"