“You do not like it?”

“Not altogether,” I admitted.  “I am beginning to wonder if those fellows were square, if they gave me the straight story.  Coombs’ words would seem to indicate that he knows I ’m a fraud.  Perhaps he did n’t mean that, but it sounded so.  Why should they tell that rough-neck their plans, and send him down here?  I ’ll find out what he knows, and how he knows it, before another ten hours.  If he ’s here to spy on us I ’ll make him earn his money.”

She did not look around.

“Are—­are you just beginning to doubt what those men told you?”

“Doubt!” in surprise.  “No; I don’t know that I do.  But I don’t like to be mistrusted and watched.  Why?  Do you think they are double-crossing us?”

“I ’ve—­I ’ve taken your word,” she said quickly.  “But it has never seemed quite right to me.  I—­I hardly know why I consented to come, only I was so miserable, anything seemed better than the life I was leading.”

“You saw all the papers,” I interposed, “and they bear out every statement.”

“Yes, but could they not be forged?  Why should any honest lawyer advise a client to undertake such a fraud?”

“Why, really I do not know,” I returned, looking at her in astonishment.  “Of course it does seem queer, but the case is a peculiar one, and, perhaps, can be solved in no strictly legal way.  If you felt so about it, why did you not say so before?”

“Don’t get angry—­please.  I hardly think I was myself then.  It was just an impulse I could not resist to get away from the past.  I was desperate enough then for anything.  I don’t think I cared whether it was right or wrong.  But on the train I lay awake and thought it all over, and—­and I would have gone back then if I could.  I am sorry, so sorry, but I am thoroughly ashamed of myself—­here, as I am.”

“You mean, pretending to be my wife?”

“Yes; that—­that is bad enough, surely.  I must have been crazy to ever consent.  Even if the truth is never known I can no longer respect myself.  But—­but that is not all—­we are actually criminals, engaged in a criminal plot.  Because the plan was concocted by a lawyer makes no difference.  We could be arrested, imprisoned.”

“I supposed you understood.”

“No doubt I did, but my brain was numbed; I could not comprehend.  It was not your fault, but mine; I do not blame you.  Only, must we go on?”

“We shall have to play out the game tonight, at least,” I said, startled by her earnestness.  “I will talk with Coombs, and will tell you the result tomorrow.  Your nerves are all unstrung, and the affair may appear different by daylight.”

She put her hand in mine, her eyes on my face.

“No; it is not my nerves.  See, my hand does not tremble; I am not afraid physically.  I ’ve simply come to myself; I ’m convinced we ’re doing wrong.”

“But you will wait until morning? until I have talked with Coombs?” I asked anxiously.