"I see," said the little man. "Mrs. Cartwright, why didn't you inform your husband of the advances made by Mr. Kelsey?"

"I couldn't! I just couldn't!" she cried distractedly. "Bill thought so much of him! He meant so much to Bill!"

"There were other times besides that on the boat when Mr. Kelsey sought to force his attentions upon you?"

"Yes! Many other times!"

"And yet you refrained from acquainting your husband with these facts." "My husband was ill. He had a bad heart and I didn't want to do anything that might excite him or make him unhappy."

"Your husband died three weeks ago. Is that not true, Mrs. Cartwright?" "Yes."

"And he died a happy man, not knowing the true nature of the man he had befriended."

"That is true."

"Mrs. Cartwright, I look upon you with great humility. You have selflessly sacrificed yourself for your husband's happiness. Whether you were right or wrong is not for me to judge.

"Will you tell us the events leading up to your husband's death and what followed, Mrs. Cartwright?"

She opened the black bag she carried and extracted another black lace handkerchief.

"Take your time," her counsel said.

"Bill-my husband had developed a slight cough," she began. "He'd had a bad cold and it left him with a cough, so the doctor suggested we go out West for a few weeks, to Colorado. An uncle of Bill's had a ranch out there."

"Did Mr. Kelsey accompany you and your husband on this trip?"

"No."

"Had your husband invited him?"

"Yes. But fortunately Cecil said he had some urgent business here in town. It was the first time Bill and I had been alone, really alone."

"And during this visit to Colorado, your husband suffered a heart attack which proved fatal?"

"Yes, he'd been over-doing strenuous sports. He died while we were there." She leaned back weakly in the chair.

"You brought your husband's body back to be buried here in the family plot. Is that not true, Mrs. Cartwright?"

"Yes."

"Did you see Mr. Kelsey after your return?"

"Yes. I couldn't keep him from the house. I couldn't be that unkind when he wished to pay his respects to my husband. And I thought he might have the decency to respect my position. Actually, I hardly said two words to him when he did call."

"When did you again see Mr. Kelsey?"

"The following day. The day of the funeral," she replied.

"Will you tell us the events of that day?" he asked.

"First, may I have some water, please?"

"Of course you may," her counsel said, and turned to an attendant. Mrs. Cartwright sank back into the chair and focussed her eyes on the window and what lay beyond it. She took the glass of water and lifted it to her lips with both

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