I threw up my head and looked him full in the face. It was over now--all the shivering and trembling and fearing. Nance Olden's not a coward when she's fighting for her freedom; and fighting alone without any sympathizing friend to weaken her.
He returned the look with interest.
"I may know more," he said insinuatingly.
"Possibly." I shrugged my shoulders.
No, it wasn't put on. There never yet was a man who bullied me that didn't rouse the fighter in me. I swore to myself that this old thief-catcher shouldn't rattle me.
"Doesn't it occur to you that under the circumstances a full confession might be the very best thing for you? I shouldn't wonder if these people would be inclined to be lenient with you if you'd return the money. Doesn't it occur--"
"It might occur to me if I had anything to confess--about this purse."
"How long since you've seen Mrs. Edward Ramsay?" He rushed the question at me.
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