I myself think I took that which was not my own.

My poor head suffers so;--so many grievous thoughts distract me, that I am like a child, and know not what I do." As he spoke thus he put both hands up to his head, leaning forward as though in anxious thought,--as though he were striving to bring his mind to bear with accuracy upon past events.

"It could not have been mine, and yet--" Then he sat silent, and made no effort to continue his speech.
"And yet ?"--said his wife, encouraging him to proceed.

If she could only learn the real truth, she thought that she might perhaps yet save him, with assistance from their friends.
"When I said that I had gotten it from that man I must have been mad." "From which man, love ?" "From the man Soames,--he who accuses me.

And yet, as the Lord hears me, I thought so then.