strove to apologise.

"I am sorry," she began, but he cut her short at once.

"Why there?" he asked.

"Because"--her words came slowly, haltingly, as she tremulously,
almost fearfully, felt her way with him--"because--there--is--no--
other place--where--I can make--my point."

He smiled. It was his first smile in years and naturally was a
little constrained,--and to her eyes at least, almost more
terrifying than his frown.

"You have a point, then, to make?"

"A good one."

He started as if to approach her, and then stood stock-still.

"Why have you waited till NOW?" he called out, forgetful that they
were not alone in the house, forgetful apparently of everything
but his surprise and repulsion. "Why not have made use of this
point before it was too late? You were at your husband's trial;
you were even on the witness-stand?"

She nodded, thoroughly cowed at last both by his indignation and
the revelation contained in this question of the judicial mind--
"Why now, when the time was THEN?"