CHAPTER TENHilary walked along Pinman’s Lane with heavy feet and a much, much heavier heart. Poor Marion—poor, poor Marion, coming here with a flickering hope as Hilary had come, and hearing this damning evidence as Hilary had heard it. Only much, much worse for Marion—unbelievably, dreadfully worse. She mustn’t ever know that Hilary knew. She must be able to believe that she had shut Mrs. Ashley’s mouth on the evidence which would certainly have hanged Geoffrey Grey.
She turned the corner of Pinman’s Lane and walked back blindly along the way by which she had come. Was it well to save a man for years, monotonous years, of deadening prison life? Wouldn’t the sharp wrench have been better—better for Geoff, and better for Marion too? But even in retrospect she shrank back from the thought.
