She seemed to be unable to disguise the absolute physical
relief she felt at the thought that he was dead, that his hand would
never again touch her. There must have been something that had
suddenly been revealed to her, something that had turned her love to
hate.
"There must be something fine about the man, too." That was another
suggestion that came to him as he stood staring out of the window
across the river. "She's paid and has got her receipt, but he is
still 'wanted.' He is risking his neck every evening he watches for
the raising of that blind."
His thought took another turn.
"Yet how could he have let her go through those ten years of living
death while he walked the streets scot free? Some time during the
trial--the evidence piling up against her day by day--why didn't he
come forward, if only to stand beside her? Get himself hanged, if
only out of mere decency?"
He sat down, took the brief up in his hand without looking at it.
"Or was that the reward that she claimed? That he should wait,
keeping alive the one hope that would make the suffering possible to
her? Yes," he continued, musing, "I can see a man who cared for a
woman taking that as his punishment."
Now that his interest in the case had been revived he seemed unable
to keep it out of his mind.
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