chucked the pistol away. I don't know what I did. Doctor, I swear it's God's truth." He started up. "What do you mean to do now?"
For Reggie sat silent looking at him. "If it's the truth, Mr. Lunt, I advise you to tell it."
"It is the truth. Don't you know it's the truth? O God!"
"I am not God, Mr. Lunt."
Victor Lunt screamed. Two men had come into the room. "Mr. Victor Lunt? I am Superintendent Bell. I hold a warrant" Victor Lunt fell upon the hearth.
They rushed at him, dragged him out of the fire. . . . "Apoplexy," Reggie said. "I thought it was coming." The detective's eyebrows asked him a question. Reggie shook his head.
"This warrant won't run," said Superintendent Bell. "What was he doing here, sir?"
"Asking for mercy," Reggie said. "He's taking the case to a higher court. I wonder. I wonder."
And that night Victor Lunt died. . . .
A few days afterwards Reggie gave a little dinner to Cranford and Nurse Dauntsey, and Nurse Dauntsey in a shy evening-frock was adorably happy. And in due time, "Have another peach," Reggie said.
"Do you want to see me blush, Mr. Fortune?" But she took another.
