“This time, at least, I will leave nothing unsaid,” he went on, folding his hands before him, clearly to prevent his being betrayed into any impetuous gesture; “this last time at least I will not be tortured with afterthoughts of a lost opportunity. Mr. Eugene Wrayburn.”

“Was it of him you spoke in your ungovernable rage and violence?” Lizzie Hexam demanded with spirit.

He bit his lip, and looked at her, and said never a word.

“Was it Mr. Wrayburn that you threatened?”

He bit his lip again, and looked at her, and said never a word.

“You asked me to hear you out, and you will not speak. Let me find my brother.”