"You know too much, and it is useless
for me to deny the truth in the face of the evidence you bring
against me. I would fight though," she added, raising her head
like a snake its crest, "if I was not sick and tired of
fighting."
"Fighting?"
"Yes, against trouble and worry and money difficulties and
creditors. Oh," she struck her breast, "what do you know of
life, you rich, easy-going man? I have been in the depths, and
not through my own fault. I had a bad mother, a bad husband. I
was dragged in the mire by those who should have helped me to
rise. I have starved for days; I have wept for years; in all
God's earth there is no more miserable a creature than I am."
"Kindly talk without so much melodrama," said Random cruelly.
"Ah," Mrs. Jasher sat down and locked her hands together, "you
don't believe me. I daresay you don't understand, for life, real
life, is a sealed book to you. It is useless for me to appeal to
your sympathy, for you are so very ignorant. Let us stick to
facts. What do you wish to know?"
"Who killed Sidney Bolton: who has the emeralds."
"I can't tell you. Listen! With my past life you have nothing
to do. I will commence from the time I came down here.
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