Peter sat at his dying wife's bedside. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "Pete, darling," she breathed, "I've a confession to make before I go. ... I ... I'm the one who took the $10,000 from your safe. I spent it on a fling with your best friend, Alex. And it was I who forced your mistress to leave the city. And I am the one who reported your income-tax evasion to the government. . . ." "That's all right, sweetie, don't give it a second thought," answered Peter, "I'm the one who poisoned you."