The old will gives it to Helen. Shall I sign the new
will or not? Shall I give the money to Helen, or the Institute?
Answer me! Yes or no."
Before the eyes of all, the apparition, as though retreating to
the cabinet, swayed backward, then staggered forward. There was
a sob, human, heart-broken, a cry, thrilling with distress; a
tumult of weeping, fierce and uncontrollable.
They saw the figure tear away the white kerchief and cap, and
trample them upon the floor. They saw the figure hold itself
erect. From it, the voice of Vera cried aloud, in despair.
"I can't! I can't!" she sobbed. "It's a lie! I am not your
sister! Turn on the lights," the girl cried. "Turn on the
lights!"
There was a crash of upturned chairs, the sound of men
struggling, and the room was swept with light. In the doorway
Winthrop was holding apart Vance and the reporter.
In the centre of the room stood Vera, her head bent in shame,
her body shaken and trembling, her hair streaming to her waist.
As though to punish herself, by putting a climax to her
humiliation, she held out her arms to Helen Coates. "You see,"
she cried, "I am a cheat. I am a fraud!" She sank suddenly to
her knees in front of Mr. Hallowell. "Forgive me," she sobbed,
"forgive me!"
With a cry of angry protest, Winthrop ran to her and lifted her
to her feet. His eyes were filled with pity. But in the eyes of
Mr. Hallowell there was no promise of pardon. With sudden
strength he struggled to his feet and stood swaying, challenging
those before him.
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