I don't know that I have the strength to tell it.
I have written it out." "You have written it out ?" said Hope quickly, and drawing near.
"Yes.

Jane thought that I was writing letters, but I was writing out the whole story of the murder.

You were good to me, Random, you dear boy, and on the impulse of the moment I took the emerald to you.

I was sorry when I got back, but it was too late then to repent, as I did not dare to go near the Fort again.

Your spy who watched might have discovered me the second time.