Yet, strange enough, each of the two kept his and
her own secret. Their hearts burned, even as the fire which consumes the
wicked, under the smother of a forced silence--itself a torment and an
agony; yea, neither of the two would mention the name of Jenny Dodds for
the entire world. And there was more than a mutual fear that one should
know what the other thought. Each was under a process of exculpation and
inculpation--a mutual blaming of each other in their hearts, without
ever yet a word said to indicate their thoughts. It was the quarrel of
devils, who make the lesser crime a foil to show the greater, and call
it a virtue for the reason that they would rather be the counterfeits of
good than the base metal of evil; yet with no advantage, for hypocrisy
is only the glow which conceals the worm in its retreat within it. The
plea of the wife was, that she was courted by the man, and that although
she might have wished Jenny out of the way, and hinted as much, she
never meant actual murder; while his, again, was the old Barnwell
charge, that his better nature had been corrupted by the woman, and that
he did it at her suggestion, and under the influence of her siren power.
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