My wife—killed me. . Glancing at each other, they rose from their seats and ventured to address the captain. You called yourself a murderess. In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. ’ ‘That,’ said Gosse, ‘is a matter of opinion. ’ He stared at the point, glanced at the fallen sword imprisoned by her foot, and only just looked back at her weapon in time to see it thrust at him again. “I believe,” he said slowly, “that I shall do best to throw myself upon your consideration and tell you the truth.
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