"It couldn't have been worth--that!" she cried, looking at him wonderingly.
"I was mad," he continued. "I saw the notes and they went to my head. Men do wild things sometimes when they are drunk, or for love. I don't drink much, and I'm not over fond of women, but, my God, money is like the blood of my body to me! I saw it, and I wanted it and I wanted it, and I went mad! Zoe, you won't give me away? Say you won't!"
"But what am I to do?" she protested. "He must not suffer."
"He'll get off," Morrison assured her thickly. "I tell you he'll get off. He's only to part with the document, which never belonged to him, and the charge will be withdrawn. They know who the murdered man was. They know where the money came from which he was carrying. I tell you he can save himself. You wouldn't dream of sending me to the gallows, Zoe!"
"Stephen Laverick will never give up that document to those people," she declared. "I am sure of that."
"It's his own lookout," Morrison muttered. "He has the chance, anyway."
She turned toward the door.
"I must go away," she said. "I must go away and think. It is all too horrible."
He came round the table swiftly and caught at her wrists.
"Listen," he said, "I can't let you go like this. You must tell me that you are not going to give me up. Do you hear?"
"I can make no promises, Arthur," she answered sadly, "only this--I shall not let Stephen Laverick suffer in your stead."
He opened his hand and she shrank back, terrified, when she saw what it was that he was holding. Then he struck her down and without a backward glance fled out of the place.