"
"God bless you, Anna!" murmured the old man again.
"We were reformers -- revolutionists -- Nihilists, you understand.
He and I and many more. Then there came a time of trouble,
a police officer was killed, many were arrested, evidence was
wanted, and in order to save his own life and to earn a great
reward my husband betrayed his own wife and his companions.
Yes, we were all arrested upon his confession. Some of us found
our way to the gallows and some to Siberia. I was among these
last, but my term was not for life. My husband came to England
with his ill-gotten gains, and has lived in quiet ever since,
knowing well that if the Brotherhood knew where he was not
a week would pass before justice would be done."
The old man reached out a trembling hand and helped himself
to a cigarette. "I am in your hands, Anna," said he.
"You were always good to me."
"I have not yet told you the height of his villainy," said she.
"Among our comrades of the Order there was one who was the
friend of my heart. He was noble, unselfish, loving -- all that
my husband was not. He hated violence. We were all guilty --
if that is guilt -- but he was not.
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