"Could I ask you a question?" he demanded finally, with more
firmness in his voice.
"What is it?" Burke said.
Garson cleared his throat with difficulty, and his voice was
thick.
"I was just going to say--" he began. Then, he hesitated, and
was silent, at a loss.
"Well, what is it, Joe?" the Inspector prompted.
"I was going to say--that is--well, if it's anything about Mary
Turner, I don't know a thing--not a thing!"
It was the thought of possible peril to her that now, in an
instant, had caused him to forget his own mortal danger. Where,
before, he had been shuddering over thoughts of the death-house
cell that might be awaiting him, he now had concern only for the
safety of the woman he cherished. And there was a great grief in
his soul; for it was borne in on him that his own folly, in
disobedience to her command, had led up to the murder of
Griggs--and to all that might come of the crime. How could he
ever make amends to her? At least, he could be brave here, for
her sake, if not for his own.
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