Part 14 (1/2)
”No; tell me about him,” Hugh asked anxiously.
”Although I knew him, I shall say nothing beyond the fact that his was an unenviable reputation.”
His lips were parted in surprise as he looked at her.
”My darling,” he said, a trifle coldly, ”you can't expect me to judge my friend without being aware of his offence.”
”His offence?” she exclaimed, with a start. ”What--what do you mean?
What do you know of his offence?”
He was astonished at her sudden and intense interest.
”Nothing beyond what you have just told me,” he replied calmly, although her strange agitation had not escaped him.
It seemed as if she had unintentionally referred to something she wished to hide. Drawing a long breath, she quickly recovered herself.
”Ah, I understand,” she said; ”I thought you were referring to--other things.”
The mention of Paris had brought vividly to his memory the strange letters and the photograph he had discovered among his dead brother's papers. A dozen times he had resolved upon approaching the subject, in an endeavour to find out how they came into his possession, but each time he had refrained from doing so because he feared causing her annoyance.
Piqued by the uncomplimentary terms in which she had spoken of Egerton, he uttered a question which the moment after the words fell from his lips he regretted.
”Valerie,” he said, grasping her hand, and gazing earnestly into her eyes, ”I have a curious desire to know whether you ever were acquainted with my brother?”
The light died out of her face instantly. She turned pale as death, her delicate nostrils dilated, and her lips quivered strangely.
”What do you mean?” she gasped.
”I simply asked whether you were ever acquainted with my brother Douglas, who was murdered, poor fellow.”
”Murdered!” she cried hoa.r.s.ely. ”Was Douglas Trethowen murdered?”
”Yes; I thought you were aware of that painful incident.”
”_Dieu_!” she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, with a shudder. ”I knew he was dead, but I was told he died of fever,” she said in a harsh, low voice.
”Then you knew him?”
”No--I--we were not acquainted,” she replied, endeavouring to remain calm, at the same time pa.s.sing her slim hand across her blanched face.
Her breast heaved convulsively, and her limbs trembled. But it was only for a moment.
”Strange that you did not know him,” Hugh said in a tone of distrust.
”What caused you to think that he and I were friends?” she asked, rather haughtily, bracing herself up with an effort.
He hesitated. He was on the point of telling her of his discovery and demanding an explanation, but he decided that such a course might be indiscreet.
”Well,” he replied, ”I had reason for believing so.”