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 at last, his voice full of despair. "It is all over, of course." He sat down and looked at Verrell.

"We must tell Elisabeth—your wife," he said. "After that—"

He paused, not knowing what to say next. Verrell said nothing. He sat silently watching Hepworth.

"How did you come here?" asked Hepworth, wearily.

Verrell leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. His eyes wandered to the door, then to the window, as if he dreaded to be overheard.

"It's a long story," he said. "A long story, Mr. Hepworth. You know that I have been in prison—Elisabeth told you, no doubt."

"Yes," said Hepworth. "Yes—she told me."

His mind went back to the night on which Elisabeth had told the story of her sorrow to him. He saw her weeping again, and again felt the wild desire that then filled him to