The horror overcame
me--I forgot--perhaps because God was weary of my many deceptions!"
CHAPTER XXIX
"THERE IS ONE WAY"
"Have you done?"
Hazen was on his feet and, rigid still, but oscillating from side to
side, as though his strength did not suffice to hold him quite erect, was
surveying them with eyes sunk so deeply in his head that they looked like
dying sparks reanimated for an instant by some passing breath.
The half-fainting woman he addressed did not answer. She was looking up
at Ransom for the sympathy and pardon he was as yet too dazed to show.
Hazen made a move. It was that of physical suffering sternly endured.
"Let me speak," he urged. "I have a question to ask. I must ask it now.
Who was the woman who came up from New York with you? There were two of
you then."
Without turning her head Georgian replied:
"That was Bela, my maid; the same one who personated me on the afternoon
of my wedding."
"That accounts for the coarseness of her neck," Hazen explained with a
certain grim humor to the lawyer, who had given a slight start of
surprise or humiliation. Then quietly to Georgian:
"Was it she who threw the comb and dropped your bag where my man found
it?"
"I threw the comb; threw it from my window before I uttered that loud
shriek. It did not go very far; but I had to be satisfied with the fact
that it lay in the direction of the waterfall.
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