e to Europe at once. But poor
Irene's death had nothing to do with his coming. She did not know he was
coming. She shot herself as she lay in bed, and on the pillow was a
letter from this man Defourcambault--well, saying good-bye to her. I saw
the letter. Not a letter that I should wish to remember. Perhaps she had
told him something of her life. I much fear that Defourcambault will be
fetched from London, though I hope not. There would be no object.... No,
thank you. I will not smoke again. I only wanted to say this to you. All
Paris knows that my daughters were intimate with poor Irene. Now, if
anything comes out, if anything _should_ come out, if there's any
talk--you see my fear. I wish to assure you, Mr. Cannon, that I had not
the slightest suspicion, not the slightest. And yet we journalists
cannot exactly be called ingenuous! But I had not the slightest
suspicion, nor had my wife. You know the situation between Laurencine
and your friend Lucas. You and he are very intimate, I believe. May I
count on you to explain everything from my point of view to Mr. Lucas? I
could not bear that the least cloud should rest upon my little
Laurencine."

"You needn't trouble about Lucas," said George positively. "Lucas 'll be
all right. Still, I'll talk to him."

"Thank you very much. Thank you very much. I knew I could rely on you.
I've kept you a long time, but I'm sure you understand. I'm thinking
only of my girls. Not for anything would I have them know the truth
about the affair."

"But aren't they bound to know it?" George asked.

Mr. Ingram was wounded. "I hope not. I hope not," he said gravely. "It
is not right that young girls should know such things."

"But surely, sooner or later----"

"Ah! After they are married, conceivably. That would be quite
different," he admitted, with cheerfulness. "And now," he smiled, "I'm
afraid I've got to go and write the case up for London. I can catch the
mail, I think. If not, I must cable. But they hate me to cable when the
mail is possible. Can I drop you anywhere?"

Simultaneously he signalled to a taxi and knocked on the window for the
attendance of the waiter.

"Thanks. If you're going anywhere near the Place de l'Opera," said
George.

VI

He was excited, rather than saddened, by the tragic event. He was indeed
very excited. And also he had a deep satisfaction, because it seemed to
him that he had at last been truly admitted into the great secret
fellowship of adu