"When I have settled other accounts, and put all my affairs in order, I shall save the provost-marshal the trouble of further seeking the slayer.

And you didn't know then, Sylvia, when you lied so glibly to the court, that your future husband was innocent of that ?" "I was always sure of it," she answered, and looked at Tremayne for explanation.
O'Moy laughed again.

"But he had not told you so.

He preferred that you should think him guilty of bloodshed, of murder even, rather than tell you the real truth.

Oh, I can understand.