Part 34 (2/2)
”Dead. Died at half-past three o'clock this morning.”
Malling turned cold.
”Poor fellow!” he said. ”Poor fellow!”
The professor was drawing his plaid shawl round his shoulders. When it was properly adjusted, he began to walk on. Malling kept almost mechanically beside him.
”Did you expect this?” Malling asked.
”Well, I knew he was failing.”
”And Chichester? Have you seen Chichester since his death?”
”No. Would you like to see him for me?”
Malling was deep in thought and did not answer.
”Do you think?” said the professor, ”that Henry Chichester will be greatly affected by this death?”
”Affected? Do you mean by grief?”
”Yes.”
”I should suppose that to be highly improbable.”
The professor shot a very sharp glance at Malling.
”I'm not sure that I agree with you,” he observed dryly.
”Have you seen him lately?” asked Malling.
”Not quite recently. But if I had seen him, say, yesterday, I don't think that would greatly affect my present dubiety. I should, however, like to set that dubiety at rest. Are you busy to-day?”
”No.”
”I am. Will you make a little investigation for me? Will you go and pay a visit of condolence to Chichester on the death of his rector, and then come round to the White House and report?”
”I will if you wish it.”
”I shall be in after seven.”
”Very well.”
”I dare say you will be surprised,” observed Stepton. ”I see my bus.”
Malling left him imperatively waving his arm, and, turning, walked toward Kensington.
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