"You don't think
he d-did it, do you--do you? Ah, but he didn't--he didn't, I tell you,
and I know--because--"
"Stop!" exclaimed Barnabas.
"Stop--no, why should I? She'll learn soon enough now and I'm m-man
enough to tell her myself--I'm no c-coward, I tell you--"
Then Cleone raised her head and looked up at her half-brother, and
in her eyes were a slow-dawning fear and horror.
"Oh, Ronald!" she whispered, "what do you mean?"
"Mean?" cried Barrymaine, "I mean that I did it--I did it. Yes, I
k-killed Jasper Gaunt, but it was no m-murder, Clo--a--a fight, an
accident--yes, I s-swear to God I never meant to do it."
"You!" she whispered, "you?"
"Yes, I--I did it, but I swear I never m-meant to--oh, Cleone--" and
he reached down to her with hands outstretched appealingly. But
Cleone shrank down and down--away from him, until she was crouching
on the floor, yet staring up at him with wide and awful eyes.
"You!" she whispered.
"Don't!" he cried. "Ah, don't look at me like that and oh, my God!
W-won't you l-let me t-touch you, Clo?"
"I--I'd rather you--wouldn't;" and Barnabas saw that she was
shivering violently.
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