’He stared at me and still didn’t seem to see me. That somehow made me furious. I said, “Jane’s much too fond of him.... She’s always with him now.... They spent this evening together, you know, and came home together.”
’Then he seemed to wake up, and he looked at me with a look I hadn’t ever seen before, and it was as if the world was at an end, because I saw he hated me for saying that. And he said, “Kindly let my affairs and Jane’s alone,” in a horrible, sharp, cold voice. I couldn’t bear it. It seemed to kill something in me; my love for him, perhaps. I went first cold then hot, and I was crazy with anger; I pushed him back out of the way to let me pass—I pushed him suddenly, and so hard that he lost his balance.... Oh, you know the rest.... He was standing at the top of those awful stairs—why are people allowed to make stairs like that?—and he reeled and fell backwards.... Oh, dear, oh, dear, and you know the rest....’
She was sobbing bitterly now.
‘Yes, yes,’ I said, ‘I know the rest,’ and I said no more for a time.
I was puzzled. That she had truly repeated what had passed between her and Hobart I believed. But whether she had pushed him, or whether he had lost his own balance, seemed to me still an open question. I had to consider two things—how best to help this girl, and how to get Gideon out of the mess as quickly and as quietly as possible. For both these things I had to get at the truth—if I could.
‘Now, look here,’ I said presently, ’is this story you’ve told me wholly true? Did it actually happen precisely like that? Please think for a moment and then tell me.’
But she didn’t think, not even for a moment.
‘Oh,’ she sobbed, ‘true! Why should I say it if it wasn’t?’