Then I hunted up an old _Advocate_ for
proof, and down I went to the parlor. I know exactly how a
criminal feels going to execution, and I've been opposed to
capital punishment ever since.
I opened the parlor door and went in, carefully closing it behind
me, for Nancy has a deplorable habit of listening in the hall.
Then my legs gave out completely, and I couldn't have walked
another step to save my life. I just stood there, my hand on the
knob, trembling like a leaf.
A man was standing by the south window looking out; he wheeled
around as I went in, and, as Nancy said, he had a scowl on and
looked angry clear through. He was very handsome, and his gray
hair gave him such a distinguished look. I recalled this
afterward, but just at the moment you may be quite sure I wasn't
thinking about it at all.
Then all at once a strange thing happened. The scowl went right
off his face and the anger out of his eyes. He looked
astonished, and then foolish. I saw the color creeping up into
his cheeks. As for me, I still stood there staring at him, not
able to say a single word.
"Miss Holmes, I presume," he said at last, in a deep, thrilling
voice. "I--I--oh, confound it! I have called--I heard some
foolish stories and I came here in a rage. I've been a fool--I
know now they weren't true. Just excuse me and I'll go away and
kick myself."
"No," I said, finding my voice with a gasp, "you mustn't go until
you've heard the truth.
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