“Well, since you wish me to say it, I was with John North, but what of that?”

“In his rooms—­” he jerked out.

“No,—­now you are asking too much of me!”

“I have proof,—­proof, that you went to his rooms that day!” he stormed.

“I did nothing of the sort, and I am not going to quarrel with you while you are drunk!”

Drunk he was, but not as she understood drunkenness.  In the terrible extremity to which his crime had brought him he was having recourse to drugs.

“You say you have proof,—­don’t be absurd, Marsh, you know you haven’t!” she added uneasily.

“You were with North in his rooms—­” he insisted.

He was conscious of a strange wonder at himself that he could believe this, and yet aside from such gusts of rage as these, his doubt of her made no difference in their life together.  Surely this was the measure of his degradation.

“I am not going to discuss this matter with you!” Evelyn said.

“Aren’t you?  Well, I guess you will.  Do you know you may be summoned into court?”

“Why?” she demanded, with a nervous start.

“North may want to prove that he was in his rooms at the hour the murder is supposed to have been committed; all he needs is your testimony,—­it would make a nice scandal, wouldn’t it?”

“Has he asked this?” Evelyn questioned.

“Not yet!”

“Then I don’t think he ever will,” she said quietly.

“Do you suppose he will be fool enough to go to the penitentiary, or hang, to save your reputation?” Langham asked harshly.

“I think Jack North would be almost fool enough for that,” she answered with conviction.

“Well, I don’t,—­you were too easy,—­men don’t risk their necks for your sort!” he mocked.  “Look here, you had an infatuation for North,—­you admitted it,—­only this time it went too far!  What was the trouble, did he get sick of the business and throw you over?”

“How coarse you are, Marsh!” and she colored angrily, not at his words, however, but at the memory of that last meeting with North.

“It’s a damn rotten business, and I’ll call it by what name I please!  If you are summoned, it will be your word against his; you have told me you were not in his rooms—­”

“I was not there—­” she said, and as she said it she wondered why she did not tell the truth, admit the whole thing and have it over with.  She was tired of the wrangling, and her hatred of North had given way to pity, yet when Langham replied: 

“All right.  You are my wife, and North can hang, but he shan’t save himself by ruining you if I can help it!”

She answered:  “I have told you that I wasn’t there, Marsh.”

“Would you swear that you weren’t there?” Langham asked eagerly.

“Yes—­”

“Even if it sent him to the penitentiary?” he persisted.

“Yes.”