She kept her purpose before her, clear and steadfast as a beacon shining
in the dark.
"You are not like Cain," she said. "And even if you were, do you think I
should love you any the less?"
He made a desperate gesture. "Would you love me if I were a
murderer?" he said.
"I love you--whatever you are," she made unfaltering reply.
He turned upon her, almost like an animal at bay. "I am--a murderer,
Juliet!" he said, a terrible fire in his eyes.
In spite of herself she flinched, so awful was his look. "Dick, what do
you mean?"
He flung out a hand as if to keep her from him though she had not moved.
"I will tell you what I mean, and then--you will go. On the night Robin
was born,--I killed his father!"
"Dick!" she said.
He went on rapidly. "I was a boy at the time, but I had a man's purpose.
My mother was dying. They sent me to fetch him. I loathed the man. So did
she. He was at The Three Tuns--drinking. I hung about till he came out.
He was blind drunk, and the night was dark. He took the wrong path that
led to the cliff, and I let him go. In the morning they found him on the
rocks, dead. I might have saved him. I didn't. I went back to my mother,
and stayed with her--till she died.
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