Mrs. Balfame: A Novel
that no doubt you too recall without effort."

"It's true she turned to him out there, ignoring men she had known for years—she saw him at the house that night, if only for a few moments—Oh, it's too horrible! Mrs. Balfame. An Elsinore lady! And she has been so good to us all these hard years, helped us over and over again. Oh, I don't mind telling you, Jim, that I was a little bit jealous of her—I rather liked Rush—he was interesting and a nice male creature, and I was so lonely—and he stopped coming so suddenly—and then seeing him so delighted to meet her that night—and both of them dragging up the avenue as if each moment were a jewel—I've always thought it hateful for married women to try to cut girls out—it's so unnatural—but I can't hear her accused of murder—to go—Oh, it's too awful to talk about!"

"She'd get off. Don't let that worry you. Innocent or guilty. There's no other way of saving Rush. Be more jealous, if that will help matters. He'll marry her the moment he decently can."

[Pg 134]

[Pg 134]

"I don't believe he cares a bit for her. And I don't believe she will marry him or any one."

"Oh, yes, she will. He's the sort to get what he wants—and, take it from me, he is mad about her. And she's at the age to be carried off her feet by an ardent determined lover. Make no mistake about that. Besides, her's is a name that she'll want to drop as soon as possible."

"Jim Broderick, you know that you are deliberately playing on my female nature, on all the baseness you feel sure is in it. I'd always thought you rather subtle, diplomatic. I don't thank you for the compliment of frankness."

"My dear girl, it is a compliment—my utter lack of diplomacy with you. I want to pull this big thing off for my paper, for your paper. And I want to save the friend of both of us. I have merely tried to prove to you that Mrs. Balfame is a mere human being, not a goddess, and deserves to pay some of the penalty of her crime, at least. Certainly, she isn't worth the sacrifice of Dwight Rush—"

"But if he can prove his alibi—"

"Suppose he couldn't. It was Saturday night. What more likely than that he failed to find the man he wanted? I have a dark suspicion that he never went near Brooklyn that night, was in no mood to think of business; although I don't for a moment believe he was near the Balfame 
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